


Timshel

by PestyBandit



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Drug Dealing, Drug Use, F/M, M/M, Prostitution, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-21 22:07:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3705977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PestyBandit/pseuds/PestyBandit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You might wonder what Jesse, Mr. White, Mike, Victor, and Gus are doing all the way in New Jersey and the truth is: they have no idea. A sudden business proposition lures the group across the country for what should be easy dealings but a face from Gus' past turns everything upside down. A twitchy kingpin, sadistic madame, and psychic are not exactly what the doctor ordered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to New Jersey

**Author's Note:**

> Before I begin I'm going to explain this takes place around the fourth season. It's based on a literal dream I had so I moved everything around to fit that. Victor and Gus aren't dead (because I love them) but a lot of the stuff that happened in that season did occur. Brock did get poisoned and Gus did get his revenge on the Mexican Cartel. However instead of Salamanca killing him he was able to get rid of him instead. As retribution for what happened to the Cartel some men came to kill Jesse, Mike, and Gus but they were able to get rid of them (not before they destroyed Andrea's house making it seem like she had been killed when in reality she moved with Brock to Florida to get away from Jesse). Everything else will pretty much be explained as I go on but I figured I should clear some of that stuff up.

The small hand of the twisted clock rested solemnly on the number three while the long hand idled on the twelve. Rune had always wondered why her mother would buy her the Dali clock when neither of them was particularly interested in art. She had accepted it though, graciously as if it had been a secret wish of hers to always acquire such a thing. Rune could never see her mother upset. There were a lot of things she couldn't do when it came to her mother.

Run.

How strange? Each tick of the clock rang outward as if to echo the word "run, run." Rune rolled her eyes as she turned her back against the oddly shaped thing. It must have been her imagination. After all it was so late in the night that she couldn't focus on a single thought.

Run.

How annoying. She lifted her body up slightly to pull her long auburn hair out from under her. A sigh escaped her lips as she gazed out of the door to the long hallway that remained only dimly lit. She was in her apartment alone so she didn't have to worry about the door staying open. Even though her mother was so sweet to her she had been living on her own since she was eighteen and at twenty-two she was more than used to the occasional sleepless night. She didn't need mommy to help her with a warm glass of milk.

Run.

With her head against the pillow the open door laid across her vision like a mask. She imagined what she would look like from the other side. Only her eyes would be visible—dark, light-suffocating-ly so—and to anyone that threatened to pass by that would be quite a sight. She shut her eyes briefly and imagined how scary it would be to see someone run across the doorway. The thought was so frightening she flashed her eyes open with the anticipation that she would see something of the sort. But there was nothing there…until she looked away.

**RUN.**

The sound vibrated against every inch of space around Rune's body and she jumped to her feet to escape the bed and it's quaking but the quaking wasn't just on the bed, it was everywhere.

**RUN.**

She dashed out of the room and saw the man running down a hallway much longer than her own and as she chased after him she realized that she was no longer in her apartment. She was in her mother's manor. Rune's eyes zigzagged around as she used the walls to keep her steady beyond the shaking floor. She wanted to scream out for her mother. But all she could do was breathlessly follow the man.

**RUN.**

From nowhere the sound of a gunshot rang out and before she could stop it a hard punch landed across her side as if she were hit with a baseball bat. Rune tried to scream but her voice was gone and as she gazed up ahead she saw the man stopping in confusion as he pressed his tattooed right hand to his side. Their actions were mirrored. She looked down at her fingers and saw the blood drifting over her digits. Rune shook her head. No.

**RUN.**

The man took flight once more and she followed after him despite the pain shooting through her body with each step.

**RUN.**

It was a labyrinth of corridors intended to ensnare anyone that thought to cross its threshold but suddenly she was caught in its webs and she couldn't get out. Another gunshot roared past her and just as she felt the harsh tap against her shoulder she watched the man ahead of her feel it too. They stumbled forward as the agony swelled inside of her chest and their running slowed. They took one second to stop and then continued.

**RUN.**

A great and mighty cacophony filled the atmosphere around her and she wanted to scream and shrink away from the sound but suddenly there was a bright light and she couldn't see a thing. She ran forward and ran forward as if she could escape the blinding shine eliminating any chance of sight she had or could ever have again. It wasn't until she hit a hard railing that she stopped. She knew what the railing belonged to, a grand staircase that exposed the ballroom like space at the center of the manor where most of her mother's grand parties were held. If she were correct then she was at the top and had run down the hallway that directed to the private rooms. If she continued on she could remain blind and find her way out.

But that was not the plan.

That harsh beam seemed to move passed her enough to clear her view.

And what a view it was.

Blood.

Bodies.

Bullets flying past.

The large windows showed helicopters circling with their searchlights aiming in.

The entire ballroom floor was covered in death.

SWAT.

Thugs.

Politicians.

Working girls.

Everyone alike.

Drowning in blood.

Rune searched around for the man she had been following but stopped when among the faces she saw her own staring right her. She pressed her hand to her mouth and watched the body follow her reaction. The light from the room began to fade unti-

GRASPING HER SHOULDERS.

RAGING BLUE EYES.

RED SCREAMING FACE.

THE MAN SHE HAD BEEN FOLLOWING.

SHRIEKING AT THE TOP OF HIS LUNGS.

_**"RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN!"** _

Rune leaped out of bed with a cry at the top of her lungs as she reached her hands all over her body in search of holes and blood. The dream was fresh in her mind—so damn fresh—that she reached over for her notebook and began jotting down everything she saw and everything that occurred. Dream like that before her employer's merger? It had to mean something; had to mean something big.

She grabbed her phone and dialed the number she recalled by heart and to whom ever answering she demanded, "Get me Elias Arciniega. Tell him it's about the deal. Tell him it's Diabla. Tell him: I had a dream."

 

**Breaking Bad:**

******_Welcome to New Jersey_**

  
Even though Jesse's head was pressed tightly against the window the only thing he could see before him was the blank monotony of tree after tree. He had heard many things about the state of New Jersey but roaming forest was not one of them. Every mention of the place had promised it was a toxic dump and stepping out of Newark Airport he believed it. Mike had taken a deep breath of the filthy air and declared, "Yup, we're definitely in Jersey" before continuing to drag some of the bags toward the rental they had picked up. Jesse had decided he wouldn't speak the whole trip until the 1,853rd tree seemed to be sticking up the middle finger at him.

"Yo, what happened to global warming and shit?"

"What?" Mr. White snapped from beside him at the other end of the vehicle.

He pried his head away from the bulletproof glass to gaze around the black SUV. From the rearview mirror all Jesse could see were Mike's eyes and they seemed to be amused as he commented, "What happened to your vow of silence?"

Jesse didn't say anymore.

Walter's eyes were narrowed on the boy as he tried to deduce where the seemingly random question had come from. Knowing Jesse for quite sometime had taught him that however ridiculous his statements were they did come from a place of some intelligence—however small that place may be. Had he been thinking about the pollution that tinted the air with a curious scent of dirt and grime no matter how far from the city they drove? Had he been thinking about the cities they drove through, the long stretch of highway, the millions of cars that seemed to populate the state more than actual people? What had he been wondering so intently that he had broken his three day streak of absolute silence?

His mind leaped backward to the plane right. Four and a half hours pressed against Mike while he pressed against Jesse who, as always, remained pressed against the window. Although Walter and Mike had issues of their own they still managed to make small talk now and then. Jesse however remained completely silent; not even to ask for a bathroom break, not even to answer the flight attendant, not even to mention that he couldn't find his bags. Walt couldn't come up with a sufficient enough reasoning as to why he would ask about Global Warming.

But Mike did.

Through plenty of time and painstaking adventure with the kid, Mr. Ehrmantraut was able to grasp onto some of Jesse's innocuous questions and trace it back to the initial thoughts that brought them up. Glancing behind him he could see Walter still staring incredulously at Pinkman as if trying to pick out of the air what could have possibly sparked the interest. Mike shook his head to himself. That was the trouble with Walt. He was always trying to _reason_ , always trying to _figure something out_. He couldn't face a bold statement without picking it apart to wrestle some higher intelligence.

Jesse was simple and was making a simple observation.

Why were there so many fucking trees?

Inside of the SUV before them Victor was trying to figure out the same thing. He had only briefly been out of New Mexico and that was to go to Mexico for a two-day business trip that left a lot of bodies and no time to explore. All he had ever known was desert and sand, cacti and reptiles, clear blue skies and very flat planes. New Jersey was the antithesis of where he had developed and what he had come to expect of the world. He didn't want to say he hated the place—Victor had a strangely open mind—but he didn't enjoy it. There was nothing about the flashing green or hills and valleys that appealed to him. He could find no satisfaction in the area he had suddenly been surrounded in.

But that wasn't important. Apparently nothing he felt or thought or wanted or desired or cared for mattered at all. He could feel Fring's eyes on him in the backseat as he drove but still he couldn't stop his mind from wandering where it did. In his opinion Pinkman and White deserved to be dead. Pinkman's head should have been put on a stake while White dissolved in his own acidic juices. After everything they did? How could they be allowed to live? And not only live, promoted!

True, he should thank the spirits that walked with him for preventing Gus from committing to his threat. The box cutter was at his neck, Fring's clothes nicely hung up, and all eyes on him. But he had changed his mind at the last minute and instead knocked him out cold. Jesse was promoted to his position while Walt remained comfortable in the lab. How nice. Victor was nearly murdered by the man that had practically raised him yet everything was well with Batman and Robin. How…comforting.

His knuckles screamed white as his grip on the steering wheel tightened. His eyes blurred as he focused on the road and the GPS telling him exactly where to go. Gale was dead. Shot right in the chest. Gale was murdered and Victor not only had to live knowing his murderer was alive but he also he to live knowing that he was suddenly ranked above him. The purest person he had ever met, the fallen star, the smiling face that showed kindness to everyone he passed was dead. He was dead so that cowards could live.

Victor took in a deep breath and pushed the thoughts out of his mind. Despite the pain surging through him he respected Gus and wanted to stay apart of the enterprise. Not because the only way he could get out was in a body bag but because he wanted to stay. Fring was a visionary and a leader way before his time. If he had run for president he would have succeeded and not stopped there. He could do anything he set his mind to and conquer any territory in his path. After all, that was what they were doing in New Jersey. They were spreading out their land like the old settlers and colonists. Gus had somehow managed to make a deal with one of the biggest Heroine distributors in the country and they were planning on joining empires but Victor had heard that before. The way Fring made partners was similar to the way tumors made partners. Benign at first…and then all consuming until every part of the body belonged to him.

But unlike a tumor Gustavo had to make accommodations. His new partner wanted to meet the chefs, wanted to watch them cook, wanted to see the product with his own eyes. And that wasn't much to ask. Except Gus wanted no part of the deal.

His eyes turned away from the back of Victor's head to the open road before them. Despite what his associates thought the merger was not his plan. It was a deal that had to be made for an old friend, an old friend that didn't deserve to die. Maximino Arciniega had been more than a great comrade and had been more than unjustly murdered. Even though he got his revenge against Don Eladio, Salamanca, and the Mexican Cartel it still was not enough. The pain of his loss still remained with each breath. He had died too soon. Nothing could take that away and nothing could change the fact that all he had left was Max's memory.

And to honor that memory he had to honor Max's family. Unbeknownst to him, Max's cousin Elias had begun his own work on the East Coast and was a very prominent supplier of Heroine. He had a smooth operating business and after fifteen years of top quality was still not found. Elias had come to him with the proposition that they would become partners in trade. If Gus distributed his Heroine he would distribute Fring's Blue Magic. Each would keep the sales from their product and would mutually sweeten their relationship with proper accommodations when visiting each other's Coast. It was a good deal. But that did not stop Gustavo's instincts from screaming at the chaos that would ensue.

But he had to keep his instincts quiet.

The deal was not for him.

The deal was for Max.

The picture of Max and Elias sat on the desk inside of Eli's Head Quarters. They were young, only fifteen then, and thirty years later it was still the only photograph he carried everywhere with him, even in the HQ in the woods. Unlike many kingpins Arciniega decided that absolute wealth and prosperity did not instantly mean life in the City with fur coats and expensive cars. It did not mean fancy parties with celebrities where everyone could see his face and everyone could talk. Even though his hand stretched across the entire East Coast he remained the mystery in the Pine Barrens. He was the Jersey Devil and he had his Diabla at his side.

She rested at the other end of the large room on his Victorian couch with a spliff in her hand and a smile on her face. Her headphones were in, auburn hair rested in a loose bun on top of her head, a nice sun dress resting against her dark skin. He had always noted that for someone claiming to be of purely German decent Diabla had dark skin and even darker eyes. And for someone of purely German decent he wondered to himself why her name was Spanish. Diabla was actually her name and the full extent of it was Diabla de Rune Verdad Arndt. She had explained that after the World War many Germans moved to South America to hide from the Allies and so her family took up residence in Chile. Rune she said meant secret. Why her mother named her the She-Devil of Secret Truth was between her mother and God, she said.

Diabla preferred to go by Rune and though he kept her wish in public she was always his Diabla in private—but only to a certain extent. Elias never coveted the girl but he did covet the gift that rested inside of her bow. He called her by the name she hated because since she had come into his life it was as if he had sold his soul to her for all the luck and growth he suddenly acquired. He had never believed in anything but what he could see but one hour with the girl confirmed any suspicious resting in the back of the mind. She was a psychic, a medium, a whatever-you-wanted-her-to-be. She had many abilities but his favorite included a knack for determining what deals would make him rich and which ones would bite him in the ass, she had visions of the future, she could touch a man's hand and know the past, present, and future for him or a loved one, she could read minds (or at least that was how it seems, he was certain she used divination to gather information or at best could read emotions and auras and that provided her with certain information), and sometimes could communicate with the dead.

It was that ability that pointed him to Gustavo Fring.

Max had claimed her body and wrote in his almost illegible scrawl the name.

Elias had done the rest.

_Turning violent, tell me about it; turn, turn around._

Turning violent, you aren't violent; don't turn violent; turn on and on, turn on and on.

Turn on.

Turn on.

The headphones were so loud they suffocated every fleeting nerve surrounding Rune's body. The spliff was nearing its end and she was afraid to ask Elias for another because then he would know—know she was freaking out All her employer knew was that her ability worked best when she was relaxed, he had no idea it was a short fuse when she was nervous. She had also neglected to tell him that extreme bouts of terror or orgasmic pleasure would give her visions to knock the back of her skull out and the way he gazed at her with those light green eyes made her positive it was a good idea to keep that a secret. She wasn't afraid of him and he wasn't ugly but she knew he was a desperate man after that message his cousin had given him. It was just a name but even that name made her nervous though she had no idea who it belonged to. The fact that he was the head of his own drug enterprise was a shock to her. Shocks weren't good.

The dream replayed itself in her mind and she shivered at the sight of her own face and those raging blue eyes ordering her to run. She had never seen her own face in a dream before. Rune knew enough about dreams to know the one she had meant something awful and Elias was not being too cautious in bringing her to the meeting. Rune sucked down the spliff until it was a roach and even that she held on until her fingers burned. She was high but she knew there was room for more elevation and so she glanced over to Elias with her little smile, "Got anymore?"

"Nervous?"

His voice was slow like a wolf stalking prey and she could see the way his mind rolled over her face for any sign of weakness. Short bursts of activity floated around her and she could feel restlessness and for some reason she thought of her mother. Rune made a promise that she would go see her after everything was said and done.

"Diabla?"

She blinked briefly as she looked to him with glazed eyes, "What?"

He chuckled his deep booming disaster and began to roll her another while she watched. His gun was in his holster beneath his black suit jacket and she knew he was itching to use it, not because he liked to shoot but because he didn't like to be afraid. Elias kept his shaved head dipped low to focus on his large hands accomplishing delicate work. He was a detailed man and kept everything pristine. His height and solid build did nothing to change that. He always took care of business.

A burp escaped her mouth and the sound of a gentle whisper declared, "They're here."

She stood wobbly from the couch and smoothed out the wrinkles in her periwinkle dress. There were different things bobbing up and down her vision. Tell him it's okay; tell him not to be sorry. He's taking good care of my little girl. No he traído Gustavo aquí por negocios. Blue skies. Gray Matter. Something about Gale.

"Finished," he smiled proudly as he rested the rolled cone joint on top of some stacked papers. She walked over and grasped the white spliff but before she could his hand grasped hers and her mind was filled with a white shock of that same limb holding a gun and his tearing green eyes aimed directly at her but who's point of view she was watching him from she did not know. Elias focused on her eyes, "You tell me exactly what you see when you meet these men. Correct?"

Rune swallowed as she nodded, "Of course."

"You belong to me, not them. Correct?"

She pulled her hand from him and lit his little creation as she nodded her head, "Of course."

Damon entered the room with the stoicism he was known for, "They're here."

Elias smirked, "It's time to meet our guests."


	2. The Meeting

Even the trees seemed to feel the coming tension of a sudden and indirect affliction. The skies were clear with not even a cloud in sight yet the blue seas wavered as if to lap against Heavenly shores. The forest that usually held the voices of the critters was quiet under the stillness of the air. Calm before the storm, what most people called it. Yet animals had to live despite the affairs of humans all around them.

A lone fox sat on a wide dirt path that went from the road to far into the heart of the Pine Barrens. A rabbit had been run over recently and so the red orange of the beast glistened as his appetite was quenched. The sound of cracking bone and clamping jaw echoed around with the promise of a large predator coming to find him but he was mad with desire. He ate as if he hadn't eaten in all his life and by the looks of him that might have been true. He was thin and young. Hardly had time to survive by himself.

The fox paused though. His bloody maw dripped as his eyes searched around for the object that had interrupted his feast. He was still as a statue but his muscles were tense under furred flesh. The legs under the small beast were wound like a spring ready to leap at the slightest provocation. Down the winding road he focused on the turn that would mean life or death in a matter of seconds depending on his actions.

The black SUV appeared.

The young fox trotted away from the other side of the road with the rabbit in his mouth.

He had won this time.

**Breaking Bad:**

_**The Meeting** _

Slamming doors sent birds flittering away from their place in high trees. Jesse stretched out his legs as his eyes watched the flight of the tiny things so far in the sky. They hopped from perch to perch in swarms of flapping wings. The sun blinded him every time he moved away from the shadow of a branch. He couldn't imagine climbing one of those things; they got so thin at the top.

"We sure about this?" Mike grumbled somewhere behind him.

"We are already here," Gus responded.

Jesse turned away from the trees and looked to the group that surrounded him. Mr. White seemed to be concocting some form of escape but the way he rubbed his chin and then shook his head made it seem like it wasn't going so well. Mike had the stale look of disapproval he didn't bother hiding as he comfortably went through the motions of patting the places along his body that held a secret weapon. Gus and Victor were strangely stone though. Both had their black eyes focused on the structure in front of them. Neither said a word.

Reflexively Jesse reached for his smokes but the glare from Mike suggested it was not the wise thing to do. He rolled his eyes and instead took in the tree house. To himself only he admitted the thing was cool. The house was on a hill so that on one end it came up to the steps and yet on the side of the house it was on a slant that made way for sixteen feet garage doors. It was a layer of garage first that was decorated in all kinds of colors of stones and right on top of that layer was the wood. The house must have had five floors, not counting the garage, because it went up as high as the trees and even then, maybe taller. To Jesse it looked like one of those log cabins in scary movies but more refined, everything new and fresh and clean.

Jesse stepped away from his captors and onto a little path made by slaps of concrete made to look like lily pads in the grass and glanced at the front of the house. A tall stairway made of what looked like granite lead to a tall door that could have been ten feet. On either side of the door stood windows of the same height that gave him a clue as to what was inside. A huge chandelier hung right in clear view but that was all he could see. The garage doors began to open and he jumped beside Mike to greet who ever was on the other end.

Walter stood tall with his fedora resting upon his baldhead and his glasses in place. His eyes were critical, moving this place and that and estimating the time it would take to get back to the main road on foot and which direction it was in. The doors to the garage began to rise and Walter stilled his questioning mind to focus on who would be waiting for them. For the briefest of seconds his mind jumped to Skyler and the way she had looked at him when he had told her he would be leaving. She didn't wait around to hear the lie. She simply waved him away and said he had better tell Junior himself. That cold chill filtered into him as he thought of that haunting reality: if he died here, she would not care.

"Gustavo!"

The man was friendly, overly jovial as if to lighten the already tension-thick atmosphere. Walter noted he had a light complexion that allowed him to pass for American—something he assumed helped him with business on the East. His name was Elias Arciniega but that was all Gus had explained. The entirety of the trip to New Jersey he had been almost positive this was all a ploy to get Jesse, Victor, and himself far enough away that if they were killed it would take a long time before anyone noticed yet seeing Elias changed his mind. The men that swarmed behind him—eight to ten or so—had the expression of uncertainty that both Mike and Victor wore but the only difference was that they were holding the guns.

He began to speak in Spanish but from what his tone expressed Walt assumed it was some sort of affectionate greeting. As he crossed the distance from the garage to Gus his crew behind him followed exactly five paces behind as if they were certain something would occur. And something did occur. The man stretched out his arms and embraced Fring in a very amusing and, quite honestly, awkward hug. A quick glance to Mike suggested that he too found it funny to see his boss in such a predicament and maybe such friendliness meant they could take a break from the constant anxiety.

That was until Gus responded with something solemn and their faces transformed from enthusiasm to despair. They were quiet in their short whispering, Elias's hand on Gus's shoulder and Fring's fingers clutching Arciniega's forearm. It was easy to tell they were talking about a long deceased acquaintance whose memory still haunted them in someway or another. Yet that one person brought them together from one Coast to the other. Walter never took a break from planning or figuring but he knew almost instinctually that if nothing catastrophic went wrong this would be an overwhelmingly satisfying business deal for everyone included.

"We will have plenty of time to welcome his memory but for now, why don't we relax?" Elias warmed in Spanish as he finally released his hold on Gus that was meant to be a much more pleasant show of camaraderie than it actually was.

"Of course," Gus agreed in what appeared to be a much better mood than he had been in during the whole trip.

They continued to discuss things like the plane ride and the drive but Victor began to find himself less interested in what they said and more interested in the amount of bodies listening. About ten men stood behind Arciniega with semi-automatics in hand and though he approved of the weaponry he did not approve of the numbers that were around to welcome a "friend." It seemed like a proper precaution to him but Victor wasn't aware these men needed precaution. The pretenses as to how and why the deal came about were still under wraps but he had heard enough of the discussion to understand that a former business partner of Gus' and a family member of Elias' is all they had in common. But still, why did the numbers seem so much to him?

"Come on, let's go inside! I know you all must be starving, lunch is just minutes from being finished!" Elias grinned as his arm found it's way around Gus' shoulders once they began to walk.

It was so funny to see them together. Elias was a tall man with white skin and Gus was a short guy and black. They seemed as opposite as a yin and yang symbol but Victor's mind went to Penn and Teller and reminded himself the men that have nothing in common are usually the best to make partners with since there's hardly anything to fight over. Gus motioned for the group to follow and while some of the men entered ahead a few stayed behind so that they surrounded everyone that walked inside. It was a smart move, one he would make, but it seemed way too defensive for a nice lunch. Something was up and he wanted to find out what it was before they got too invested in their stay. One look at Mike assured him he was not the only one thinking this way.

"I ask you all not to be so impressed with my head quarters. I had no hand in the build, it was all do to my wife!" he mused.

They passed through the garage and ascended a large flight of stairs that brought them into the middle of a wooden palace. Victor did not allow is inner amazement to be expressed on his face but his eyes, he knew, were dancing with delight. The whole thing balanced around a huge tree at the center of the mansion (for lack of a better word) and though from the outside the place looked like a building the inside made it seem much bigger. The first floor stretched out half the length of a football field with one half completely dedicated to the living room and the other in whatever arrangement of rooms that followed. The inside was all polished pine and the large open space of the living room held a fire place, pool table, bar, flat screen TV, a huge chandelier dangling from the center and wide open windows and that huge door that brought everyone inside. The light entered in such a way that there was no need for electricity since it seemed like it would stay for hours.

It was fantastic.

But Mike was not impressed. His eyes focused on the others that spoke in whispers to each other and to some unseen folks that asked questions through earpieces. His eyes were open to all the windows and to the large glass doors that lead to an outer deck where servers set up a long table outside. Around the tree he determined was another set of stairs that lead to the other floors and beside that was a kitchen hidden away that only became known through a swinging door. Inside he could see more guys waiting with guns and unwelcomed faces. He had a terrible feeling about what was going to happen.

"Before we begin our introductions I have one person I need you to meet."

There it was.

Gus' hand flew out to the side to halt any action that Mike instinctively wanted to take and so he made no move as he watched Arciniega's face go from friendly to serious in all of one sentence. The man's light eyes turned grim and his smiling features that made him look young went stiff and aged him a decade ahead. An obvious shift in the men occurred around them while Mike kept his focus on where their fingers went in their hold of the gun and exactly where each thing was pointed. Somehow it had happened that the group stood in a line side by side with one another. Gus, Mike, Walt, Jesse, and Victor on the end made it easy for a quick spray of bullets and an easy execution but wouldn't they do it outside where it wouldn't make a mess? Perhaps he was a mad man and enjoyed the blood? Anything could happen.

"Rune, would you come out?"

From the kitchen came a girl in a purple sundress and a Margarita in hand. She was a cute girl, around Victor's age—24 or so—and had auburn hair with eyes like black holes. She was on the short side, had dark skin that did not fit her European features though she had a smile that balanced it out. Her eyes were red, her steps slow and tipsy, and her expression far away as if she was already drunk/stoned with no need to extend an invitation for anyone to join her. Mike glanced to Fring to determine if their minds were on the same path.

The effortless eye contact confirmed their synchronized thoughts.

It was unprofessional for her to be there.

Her presence did not bode well for the Coast-to-Coast unification.

"There you are," Arciniega grinned as he placed his arm on her shoulder to guide her to his side.

"Is this your daughter?" Gus questioned as he gazed over the girl that seemed to be slipping out of this world and into the next.

"Oh, not at all. She is my oracle."

Though he was certain no expression had been made Gustavo could feel the drop in his chest at the man's words. He had come under false pretenses, it seemed. Elias had called him with a business proposition and so far all he had done was give him a circus. If they were back in New Mexico Gus would make him pay dearly for wasting his time in such a way and yet…there was something in the girl's eyes that felt eerily familiar. In the culture he had grown up in psychics and brujas were an every day part of life. He himself had been told countless times that he had a gift that he should not neglect and secretly he had attributed much of his success to that gift that remained hardly cultivated. He took in a deep breath and allowed Elias to continue speaking before interrupting with his thoughts.

"I don't mean to seem as though I'm making a joke of our agreement. I did bring you here with the intention of joining forces to sweep our products across the country. The only trouble is I never do anything without her approval. The only trouble is she had a dream—an awful dream—last night in which I find no coincidence. All I ask is that you shake her hand and allow her to determine if this is a good deal for everyone here. If not we will continue lunch but I will send you home, no harm no foul. If everything goes well, we can continue. Is that alright?"

Gustavo nodded his head apprehensively, "That is fine."

"Rune," he smiled like a father to a child, "Go ahead."

She took in a deep breath as she handed her drink to him and stepped toward Gus, cracking her neck before extending her hand, "Alright, let's do this."

A deep tightening inside of his chest occurred as Gus followed her example and accepted the girl's hand. Their skin met and palms interlocked and as they looked into each other's black eyes (strangely dark as if they together were absorbing light from all around with their stare) electricity filled the air that sizzled and crackled. The girl squeezed her eyes shut and suddenly both hands were locked around his in a tight grip that Gustavo found strange. He anticipated some form of show to occur, some convulsions or something, but all she did was wait there for a few seconds and then she released him with an exasperated breath.

"Nothing!"

"Excuse me?" Elias questioned.

She glanced behind herself as she shook her head and stammered, "I-I don't know. Not a single thing. It's like he's all tapped out. I mean it's not like it hasn't happened before. You know. It's so weird though. Like I can't get anything. Like I can't get a thing at all."

Gus glanced over to Mike who was looking at him in the same manner and further down to the rest of his unimpressed group. He opened his mouth to dismiss any further activity but Elias cut him off, "Try the next one."

She didn't wait for the okay. Mike reluctantly lifted his hand and as she clasped his a shock vibrated through her and she seemed to jump into life. A wild expression of glee filled her face and she seemed to be bobbing up and down as she pumped his arm once, twice, three times up and down and then back and forth. Her eyes were wide with light and joy while Mike's were furrowed and confused as she held onto him with no sign of letting go. It wasn't until he dropped her hand that she slowly released him with a laugh and shook her head to release the giggles.

"Shit! This guy's good!" she beamed as she patted his shoulder, "Wow! Yeah! Fuck! Dude! Mike! What a life! And that was just the surface! Dude, I mean, Sir, you've got a lot of stories! Can I sit down with you one day! Man, that was cool! That was amazing! This guy's a good guy. He's a keeper. He's hardcore. Man, this dude is way to go!"

A small sigh of disbelief escaped his lips until suddenly she propelled herself forward and began to whisper in his ear. Gus watched his body go rigid and his face turn dark and red as blood flowed madly across his body. His hands were balling into tight fists and Gus could see Mike was somehow in some sort of pain and yet he did not push her away. In fact he leaned closer to her mouth as if he needed more thoroughly to dissolve her words inside of himself. She pulled back with a grin that left Mike speechless and focused on the windows over her head. Gustavo kept the blistering questions inside of his chest. He appreciated her secrecy since this was no time for weakness.

"Move along," Elias demanded and move along she did.

The contact with Mike had made Rune's nervousness flee as quickly as a frightened deer at the sound of a snapped twig. He was a good man and she hoped the rest of the guys were good too but that was never promised. For all she knew they were murderers and liars and backstabbers and cheats but then again so were everyone else that ran in this circle. She couldn't blame them for things they did she could only judge their hearts and even that didn't matter. All Elias was looking for was if they were loyal men and good at their job. Very low standards but standards nonetheless.

The man had his hand out and kindly reached toward her and all it took was one tap of flesh for her to be filled with all the information she needed. It came to her sometimes in montages and sometimes in waves and sometimes in clippings and other times in brief words and what came from Walter was a hard wave. She shook her head as a giggling sort of "oooohhh" escaped her mouth and she looked deep into his eyes. Rune believed in fate but she also believed some people's fate could be altered by blesses or curses. One man could be walking down the street and maybe smiling too much, maybe looking too happy and one evil eye could send his life on a downward spiral. But then again the exact opposite could happen too—which seemed to be Walter's case.

"Man, oh, man, oh, man! This guy is good. _Somebody_ likes him. Man, I should rephrase that. _Somebody_ LOVES him. Dude, this guy, Walter, is fucking good! This guy, what ever he _wants_ happens. What ever he _needs_ he gets. I don't know what you did, you wished upon a star, you gave an old witch some spare change, you passed by the right grave, I DON'T KNOW but it worked! Kudos on you," she nodded with no intention of touching him ever again.

Rune glanced behind her at Elias and though he remained stoic his eyes could never lie. She saw them shining and glued to her every expression and she liked it that way. She didn't have to tell him specific details about the lives she touched; all he had to do was read her face. Sometimes she herself couldn't make the decision as to whether someone was good or bad for business but he always could. All he had to do was look in her eyes and take the hard part out of her hands. She only had to see it all and that was that.

A few steps to the left and she was in front of the ne-

Raging blue eyes.

Tattoo on right hand.

Tattoo that had grasped his side and came back with blood.

It was the man from her dream that had screamed for her to run.

"What's wrong?" Elias commanded.

Rune glanced back at him with an honest smile, "Nothing. It's okay."

Her gaze returned to the guy just a half-foot taller and she brought her hand up to hold onto his. A second passed of nothing and he bitterly questioned, "What am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to just stand he-"

The shot. The hit at the side like a baseball bat against their ribs vibrated throughout their bodies. Like a metal pole being wrapped around by a vehicle. There was nothing but black and dark swallowing her whole and she opened her mouth to scream but every muscle in her body became so tense she couldn't make a move. The visions flying past—angry, abysmal, horrid, and impossible—seemed to gnaw at her insides and she reached forward to steady herself on his arm but suddenly they became worse. The hit at their shoulder shattered their collarbone and suddenly Jesse wretched forward and grabbed onto her too and it was like they held onto one another with a vice grip. Everything was playing forward, backward, forward, and reverse and it was killing her—killing her in all the ways that already killed him.

"Jesse!"

Their bodies were ripped apart from one another and Elias found himself gasping as he looked to Rune whose muscles appeared to have solidified to stone. Their faces, their skin, their bodies had totally and completely turned a hard, angry red as if all the energy in their being had attempted to get out. Elias held onto Rune with the gentleness of a father and he began to massage her arms to loosen the muscles but nothing could be done about her forever-clenched jaw. Anger filled him as he looked at the state of her and then at the other man who was slowly blinking out of his state while Rune remained stunned by the happenings.

"Who is this man?" Elias angrily snapped as he stepped toward Gus, "I want him ou-"

"No!"

All the eyes focused on Rune as she took in deep breaths and shut her eyes to hide her face inside of Elias' chest. He rubbed her back lightly and looked at her questioningly but all she did was shake as if to force her body out of the state. He had never seen her like this before. Always she remained smiling and relaxed with no pressure resting on her at all. She was the oracle; his plan was that she never had to feel the harshness of their reality if he could help it. And in this moment he couldn't.

"Listen, Mr. Arciniega, I assure you there is nothing wrong with my partner here," the man, Walter, began to speak, "He's been through a lot of emotional toil. I don't know what happened here but I can vouch for him with my life. He is a good, loyal man. He has never done anything wrong and has never gone again-"

"He's right."

Elias looked down to Rune that suddenly began to pull away. She moved her jaw left and right to get rid of the lock and shook out her hands to get out the stiffness. Elias' hands fell back from her but only just a few centimeters in case she would collapse once again. He had known Rune since she was the age of sixteen and though they weren't blood related he still looked kindly to her as if she were family—though he would never admit that to anyone in the world. He didn't like seeing her this way; especially since each decision of his depended exactly on what she had to say.

"Li-ike Walt said," she shivered, "H-he's been through a lot. He's okay. There's a lot of, uh, there's a lot of people that don't like him. Some people hoping for the worst to fall on him but that doesn't matter. The people that love him—the few people that love him—love him so much all the negativity gets abolished. Everything's okay. He's good. He's good."

"What about the next one?"

He hated to put her through more struggle but the last show erased all of his confidence that had been built up by Mike and Walter. Elias found himself wanting to send everyone out and like good men his body of soldiers had their hands on their guns with the intention of use. If they acted on their own, he would apologize to Gus but it wouldn't be his fault. He hoped they would act without his signal and yet there was still a chance that everything would be okay. However slim that chance was.

Rune shot him dark glances but she went forward to the other man and grasped his hand roughly. Just as with Gustavo she placed both hands around his fist and shut her eyes to breathe. When she opened them again she seemed to be relieved as she shook her head and declared, "I can't get anything from him either. Anything I can get is a whisper. I don't know. He's good; he's great. Anything or anyone he wants to find he can find effortlessly. He's got skills like me but they're all wrapped up in locating things and people. He's cool. He's good. Can I go take a nap now?"

Elias nodded his head warily and placed his hand on her shoulder as he offered her his key to his desk drawer and the drink he had handed off to one of his men during the not so pleasant show, "You take anything you need, alright? I'll have food brought up to you in a minute."

"Thanks," she smiled and wobbled away, taking big gulps of her drink.

Silence filled the atmosphere for all of the time it took for Rune to disappear behind the big tree. The tension filled the environment; removing whatever mysticism was in the structure of the house they were sheltered inside. No one knew what to say or to do until Gustavo, without blinking an eye turned to Arciniega, "Now that your oracle has spoken, what is your decision? Was this all a waste of time or do we have business here?"

Elias' face was still as he weighed the words inside of himself. The swinging door to the kitchen opened just barely to show that the chef was finished with their meal. He took in a deep breath then let a smile drift across his face, "It's never a waste of time to be in the company of friends. Dinner is ready on the patio, why don't we go outside and enjoy the sun while it's still with us. Business can wait. Let's go!"


	3. Lunch

A thick fog of steam rolled in from the open bathroom door, slowly vanishing into the large open space of the wide bedroom that belonged to none other than the woman emerging from it. Her hair remained wrapped in a teal towel that somehow made her green eyes glimmer though no make up had been added to her fawn complexion. A thick white robe hid her naked body but nothing could mask the smile on her pink lips that promised to abide to the destruction that was on the horizon. As she glided from the master bath to her humble abode a long, crimson clad fingernail graced every surface until it reached a happy iPod connected to a sound system.

She paused over the device then scrolled through the song selection until she found something that made her stop to enjoy the velvet memories floating over her like cloth. The woman had a youthful, fresh face but still appeared to be no older than forty and no younger than thirty-five. What she could be thinking no one knew and quite clearly, no one wanted to know.

Her long nails pressed the center button and she nodded her head as the guitar kicked in.

_"Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, I'm begging of you please don't take my man."_

Amusement rang through out her features as she stepped away from the iPod and made her way to her vanity that held an assortment of creams, powders, polishes, and perfumes.

_"Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene. Please don't take him just because you can."_

The bench resting against the vanity served as a good footstool while she lifted her leg from beneath the white robe to massage some expensive French lotion over every inch of skin. She worked it through to the next leg and then up over her thighs, over her stomach, her breasts, her neck as if she were titillating herself since no one else could be watching. A quick once over her arms was enough and then she reached over for the next bottle that she used over her face with a sweetness that was obvious she shared with no one else.

_"Your beauty is beyond compare; with flaming locks of auburn hair, with ivory skin and eyes of emerald green."_

Her green eye winked at the lyrics spelling out for her but if she really wanted to self indulge she knew it had to be in the presence of others that still wanted her body. To her right sat a large mahogany dresser she used just for her delicates and she decided it would be a good day for black lace. Quickly she dressed into the thong and matching bra and discarded the robe on the floor for one of the maids to attend to when she was finished with her adventure.

_"Your smile is like a breath of spring, your voice is soft like summer rain, and I cannot compete with you, Jolene."_

Next she sauntered to the large walk in closet with censored lights as if a lover always knew she had come home. Slowly racks of clothing began to circulate so that she could keep her eye on colors and styles to make her pickings much easier than they needed to be. She decided though to look at her wall of shoes and make her decision from there.

_"He talks about you in his sleep, there's nothing I can do to keep from crying when he calls your name, Jolene."_

She pondered which would capture her attention then happily grasped a pair of red poppy suede Talitha Louboutins at a modest 160 mm. On a soft ottoman she put on the open toe T-shaped platform pumps and once they were on she found a mirror and smirked to herself at the beauty that returned her expression. No one that she passed would stand a chance.

_"And I can easily understand how you could easily take my man but you don't know what he means to me, Jolene."_

Next was the dress she would adorn her body with. She couldn't very well go out in her lingerie (though she had considered it once her twice). This time she was truly stumped.

_"Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene. I'm begging of you please don't take my man."_

It wasn't until she found a very posh black-laced dress that she realized just exactly what she was going for. Since she had awoken she had the feeling that this was a day unlike any other. She had the feeling she needed to be dressed to impress and more than impress, to slay.

_"Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene. Please don't take him just because you can."_

The dress she removed from its place among the others and she guided it gently onto her large round bed across from the vanity. She laid it casually over the silk and wondered if she would allow her husband the pleasure of seeing her in all her glory. A soft shake of her head and laugh made it clear she did not think so.

_"You could have your choice of men but I could never love again, he's the only one for me, Jolene."_

At the vanity she applied her make up to, as always, heighten the allure of her arresting eyes. She had been told all of her life that she had the eyes of a goddess and she had found that they had the power of one too. A nice shade of red daunted her mouth and only when she was finished with her face did she release her auburn hair from its confines in the towel.

_"I had to have this talk with you, my happiness depends on you, and whatever you decide to do, Jolene."_

Her hair she filled with gentle product that made it bounce and come to life as it dried in a delicate heap past her shoulders and to the center of her back. She clipped it into a delicious up-do that elongated her neck in such a way that even she wanted to take a nibble. A nice, ancient black brooch kept each lock from falling out of place and few pins secured it for the rest of the evening.

_"Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene. I'm begging of you please don't take my man."_

Slowly she stepped into her dress and zipped up the back all by herself. She gazed in the full-length mirror and grinned at how the lace bodice hugged her breasts into place while the short skirt made her already long legs look longer. Behind was a sheer, billowing trail that if she chose could wrap around her waist to cover her legs but why in the world would she choose that?

_"Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene. Please don't take him even though you can."_

A knock on the door captured her attention and when she looked to the door she saw it was one of her girls with a phone in her hand. The girl tentatively spoke, "Miss Kate? It's your husband, he says he's bringing company over."

_"Jolene, Jolene."_

The woman nodded with a firm smile, "Good."

**Breaking Bad:**

_**Lunch** _

"What I find most intriguing about the natural climate of New Jersey and, well, the tri-state area in general is that you have all the weather conditions of the entire nation in one place. In winter we have blistering snowstorms, spring we have outrageous monsoons, summer brings us sweltering heat, and fall gives us unrelenting cold. But that's not all. We have downtrodden slums, profitable metropolitans, cozy suburbs, and untampered wilderness. It's really quite stunning when you look past all the fucking bugs!"

A round of laughter followed Elias' small speech. His face was a growing boom of pleasure as he gazed at the faces of the table enjoying the meal his chefs specially prepared. Though he was a businessman first, Arciniega felt pride in knowing he was an entertainer second and he took that job very seriously. After what had occurred with Rune he felt embarrassed for not being hospitable to his guests but he promised himself that he would make up for that mishap. After all, he couldn't blame himself for needing to be careful! If anything, he knew Gustavo would respect his desire for extra precaution.

"Many have warned me of the local mosquito climate but I am surprisingly unaffected," Gus commented as he took another gentlemanly bite of his hardly eaten steak.

"I have an answer for that," Diego smiled warmly as he took a sip of his beer, "We use a homemade repellant that makes the patio and, by association, us less interesting. Not to mention we have planted around the HQ citronella, horsemint, marigolds, ageratum, and catnip which does a good job of keeping them away on their own."

Elias smiled proudly at his boy. Diego was a bastard, a product of one of Elias' many romps as a youth growing into his seemingly God-given ability to make people afraid of him. His mother was a whore that could hardly care for herself, let alone a child, and so he took him under his wing and raised him the only way he knew how. Elias found it a comfort that they looked so much a like and hardly any trace of the woman had passed through him like water. There was another bit of him he knew Gus would appreciate as well.

"How intriguing," was all Gus could manage to say.

The young man, Elias' son, looked too much like Maximo for Gustavo to sit at ease. It was impossible to stare into his face and not see the man that he had brought out of squalor and promised a glorious life that had not come to pass. He felt a soft, splintering desire to inform the man of all he had done in the name of revenge and all he had done to redeem their name and their lineage. But a soft flicker in his eyes reminded him too much of Elias and that desire slipped away. Diego was another man, separate entirely from Maximo though when they spoke there was hardly a difference.

"What is this mosquito repellant made of?" Walter questioned as he gazed down at his own hand as if to study whether the foreign creatures would attack him at any second, "I would expect it to be rather potent and yet I can't smell a thing."

"Oh, I'm afraid we can't tell you, Mr. Heisenberg," Diego shook his head with a prideful gloom, "It's an old family recipe. If I told you I'd have to kill you."

A false expression of nervousness drifted over the man's features, "We don't want to play around with that, now do we!"

There was another round of laughter.

"I must say I find myself anticipating watching you cook. You've already proved what a knowledgeable man you are, I imagine it would be like Beethoven conducing a symphony," Elias nodded behind his drink.

"Now that you bring that up," Gus interrupted, "Will we be meeting you at your lab or will you be taking us there yourself?"

"You are my guest," Elias boasted, "I won't have you drive more than necessary. I know it takes much getting used to with these winding roads and noxious valleys and hills."

Gus smiled approvingly but continued regardless, "Shall we get a move on then? We don't want to waste any more time than we need to."

"Oh, Gustavo," he began to speak in Spanish as he shook his head disapprovingly, "You have only just arrived. Allow me to make your night well and then in the morning we will get to business. I've already given you all enough of a start. I wouldn't forgive myself if I didn't show you a good time."

"Nonsense," Gus began but was interrupted by the sound Diego shaking his head. "Please, Señor Fring, it's nonnegotiable," he smiled warmly.

There was nothing warm about the insistence.

Victor found it hard to swallow not only the bleeding slab of meat but also the overwhelmingly pushiness of their "hospitality." He found it impossible to find any comfort despite how suddenly joyous the atmosphere became. Nearly all of Arciniega's men had swapped their guns for Coronas and though each previously stoic face became filled with smiles there was still nothing happy about the situation. Victor wondered what it was that kept these guys sitting at Arciniega's roundtable. The pay must have been extraordinary.

"Emmanuel! Get me my phone, I must call my wife!" Elias called, motioning for one of the servers to grace him with his cell.

"Yes, sir, Señor Arciniega," the young skittish man agreed as he rushed over from the patio and into the kitchen. "My wife, I must confess, is a bit eccentric. She wears wealth well and prefers that everyone recognize it. Mi amor has developed her business from long ago. She is the sole proprietor of her own…let's call it what it is, a whorehouse," Elias chuckled.

"Don't let her hear you call it that!" one of the men—Stu—called out.

"Don't tell her I said it then," Arciniega smirked. "She calls it her Luxury Palace. Anything goes as long as you are polite and well mannered. She has fifteen girls—one for every year she's been in business—and they are all outstanding."

"Jacks of all trade," another—Julio—commented in a way that stirred the already chuckling bunch into a row of hollers.

With all the laughter and jokes Victor found it impossible to take any of them seriously. For a second he considered pulling Gus to the side and asking for this guy's credentials because he just could not see it. It seemed to him that they were being duped. He wanted to snap on Gustavo and demand he tell them why he brought them so far away. But the difference between Gus and Elias was simple. Gustavo was a professional and his loyalties came from respect and power and fear and trust and wonder. He was a powerhouse, not a comedian.

"I don't think that will be necessary," Gus tried to shake his head, "We have had a long flight. It might be prudent if we go to our hotels and rest."

"I second that. I don't want to turn down your generous offer but I have a wife," Walter sighed, showing the ring on his left hand that should have declared him free from any unnecessary activities.

"Nonsense!" Elias chuckled, "Just nonsense. If you don't want the girls there are other things to do at the Luxury Palace. My wife had a movie theater installed in the fall, bowling alley, dessert shop, rumpus room, you name it!"

"Sir."

It was Emmanuel with the phone. He placed it against his ear and began to speak in a soothing manner, "Buenos Dias, Cathy, tell my wife I'm bringing guests. Pull out all the stops!"

Mike rolled his eyes absentmindedly as he finished the rest of his empanada—subsequently the only good thing on the plate—while tallying up how many times Gus denied the invitation and how many times it was made clear that the group had no choice. The longer they stayed in attendance of Arciniega the more vivid all truth became. Gustavo didn't have an option in the deal. Everything was a show. Everything balanced on a thin line of pleasantry.

One little shit could crumble everything.

The little shit being Jesse.

With his fork that served no purpose other than annoyance he scrapped the plate that still remained filled to the brim. Conversation continued around the noise as if the louder the voices became the easier it would be to shrink the sound but there was nothing that could cover the frequency. But Jesse didn't care. He wasn't doing it to bother. He was doing it to match the silver buzzing that thundered against the inside of his brain. Scratching to match that lightning strike against his temporal lobe.

A hand grasped his wrist and he looked to see Walter staring those hard, rotten eyes against him as he heard Gus joke, "You can take the man out of New Mexico but you can't take New Mexico out of the man."

"Some man," Stu mumbled, causing a round of muffled giggles.

Jesse dropped the fork as he glanced away from the table and out at the shuffle of woods laced with rows of golden light. There was something about the chaos of millions of trees that brought him the tiniest hint of satisfaction, something the company of men could not do. It was a fucking disaster what they did to him. Force that girl to bring up shit inside of his mind that he needed locked down in order to survive. Then what? Pretend it didn't happen? Expect him to go through the motions and laugh his ass off at whatever joke they threw around? And what about the dream? Was he just supposed to forget that too?

Rune certainly couldn't.

Up in Elias' office she rested on the couch, her favorite couch, and shut her eyes to the voices vibrating around her with an unrelenting urgency. She had managed to roll herself a joint but it wasn't as good as her employers, he had the magic touch when it came to rolling and that was all she wanted from those things. The crooked j hung limply between her shaking fingers and went out with every tiny waver her digits took. She had to keep her lighter burning at the end of it, holding down on the little black pedal and her thumb away from the metal clasp. She shut her eyes tight and tried to imagine that the flames were coming from her own fingertips.

Voices grumbled against the nape of her neck but it wasn't until the door opened that they joined into one harsh statement, **"You have to help him!"**

The lighter fell from her hand and the joint crumbled to the floor beneath her. The voices left but in their place stood Emmanuel who gazed at her with cold concern, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," she nodded, motioning toward her drink, "Can I have another?"

He was a thin man, tall and handsome from some Caribbean country that spoke not only Spanish but any other language of a settler looking to dominate the land. He was about twenty-five but had the face of a man that could acclimate to any age he needed to be at any given moment. He was a philosopher, a bartender, a psychologist, a strategist, and anything else he needed to be to separate himself from the rest of the serving class. He was not to be trusted and yet that right made him more trusted than anyone else. His goal was the endgame. The only trouble was no one knew what his endgame was. Even Rune found this strange aura around him that seemed to push away her ability. The only way she could find anything from him was with touch but that was impossible—neither wanted to succumb to that displeasure.

"How's the party going?" Rune questioned as she sat up from the couch to gaze at the unmoving man.

"As expected. I think your parlor tricks left them on a sour note," he commented mildly.

She scoffed, "Yeah, my parlor tricks. Maybe it was Manny's specialty dish? The Bleeding Cow?"

"Perhaps, but you know Señor Arciniega likes it that way," he reminded her.

"That he does," she sighed, "What else it, Emmanuel?"

"He wants you to go to the Luxury Palace."

Drop.

"Hm, another fainting spell. I'll tell Señor right away."


	4. The Road to the Luxury Palace

_Chile, 1976_

"Hey, baby!"

"Sexy Mama!"

"Super model!"

"What are you looking at her for?"

"Yeah, she's a stupid white girl!"

"She's got a Hitler Daddy!"

"I'll be her daddy!"

The voices all rang out in the Spanish of children mirroring adults. The ocean waves roared with the promise of drowning out sound and yet still their words hovered across the shore. Eight youths loitered against the edge of the water, six of which with their legs getting lapped by the warm, blue sea. Off to the left of the small group sat a young girl that appeared to be the age of sixteen though her bikini-clad body had developed to that of a twenty-year-old woman. She was clearly not of Chilean descent though her skin had baked over into a gentle bronze. Directly behind the group, resting against the rocks and in the shade was a dark young man that appeared to be twenty-five though was definitely twenty.

"Come on, let me get a piece of that!" one of the boys called out, splashing lazily at her though she was not close enough to get wet.

One of the girls shoved him into the water as she angrily snarled, "Get your head out of your ass. She's not even looking at you. She's a rich white bitch. She won't even talk to you!"

"That's because he's an ugly ass," one of the other gentlemen chuckled, splashing him as soon as he got up once again, "I'm sure she wants some of this brown sugar!"

"You're an idiot!"

The group laughed and wavered off, shuffling across the ocean shore in search of bigger waves and thrills. One of the boys called to the man in the shade, "Negro! Come on!"

But Negro did not respond.

His black eyes were focused on the girl that had not moved from her place on the sand and his friends watched with no shame as he pulled himself from the rocks and walked over to her. Negro had a swagger about him that made him stand out even in the center of a crowd. His eyes were dark and emotionless, his stare calm and always still even in the face of certain death. Incidentally it appeared to his friends he was walking into exactly that. No one believed they could really speak to the Cold Girl that would not stir even with sand in her face. No one.

Yet he didn't care.

He took his seat beside the girl and without even looking at her he stretched out and grasped one of the grapes in the bowl she had sitting beside her. Green eyes burned holes into his dark skin though she said not a word in response. Her eyes were vibrant and shimmery but there seemed to be something lacking there.

Just like with Negro.

His eyes drifted toward her and he expected her to flinch away as everyone else had when met with his bottomless pits but she did not turn. Instead she stared harder, threatening him with action that she knew he could not take. He reached his dark hand across himself and toward the woman, "Negro."

After a few moments (hard, long moments) she let out a breath and reached over to receive the shake, "Katalina."

"Pleasure to meet you, Katalina," he reached over to brush away a strand of auburn hair from her cheek.

She laced his body with her uninhibited stare, "The pleasure is all mine."

**Breaking Bad:**

_**The Road to Luxury Palace** _

_United States, 2010_

"Matty forgives you, okay? He wants you to be happy. He wants you to forgive yourself. Alright? Everything you've done for Kaylee? You have given her more than he could ever ask. You've become his hero again. And even more, you've become hers."

The words rolled around Mike's mind like a smooth pebble between his broken fingertips. He had never believed in psychics before but as he drove with the girl in the seat beside him he couldn't block everything in his mind. After she had spoken—the girl, Rune—he had sworn to place the message in his back pocket until he had time to think about it, to analyze it, to make heads or tails out of whatever the hell it meant. He had to keep his mind clean so he could focus on Elias and everything that promised to unfold because of him. He had to make sure that everything remained smooth. If not for himself than for his granddaughter; after all, he was her hero and heroes don't vanish or disappear, they come back home.

"So…"

Walter's voice filled the SUV much to Mike's disdain.

"Rune, is it?"

She turned around in her seat and gazed blankly at the man, "Yeah, it is."

"Is there anything you can tell us about this," he paused grimly, "Luxury Palace we are heading to?"

The blank face cracked into an exasperated smile, "What can't I tell you about that place? What'd you want to know?"

Oh, no, an actual conversation. Mike wondered if she knew what he was really trying to do. Walter was a man of science and men such as that test and test and test when confronted with something that does not fall under their realm of understanding. He recalled the expression Walt held when Arciniega explained her abilities and even further went she went along to examine each of their—Mike didn't know what to call it—auras(?). With everything still swarming inside of his mind he did not want to have to sit and listen to his hidden queries. Not at all.

"How far away is it?" he began as if it were a control question in his pseudo-polygraph experiment with the girl.

"Three exits off the Park Way so…not that far," she answered with a casual nod of her head. "It's been there for over twenty years."

"I thought Arciniega said there were fifteen girls, one for every year it's been in business," Walter countered.

She nodded with satisfaction, "Yes, he did say that. But the first five years were purely experimental. It wasn't until '95 that the Luxury Palace came into full swing. And there were fifteen girls then too. That whole 'one for every year' is just a tag line they use. It's always fifteen."

"Interesting," Walter mulled.

He was tempted to press further into the history of the place but it truly mattered not to him. Despite what he thought or knew he still had to participate in the pointless festivities though that did not mean he would consent to an affair. The extent of his involvement would be a round of bowling, maybe a short film, a trip to the dessert parlor and things of that nature. Maybe a drink or two would satisfy Arciniega but that was all. From what he had heard they would begin cooking in the morning but regardless of what time the "morning" was it would be too early, thanks to the time difference and all of that.

Walt considered asking why Elias felt the need to rope them into activities they were clearly all against but he knew that would not go over well. After all she was sent to ride with them as a spy. It had taken all of Mike's silent aggression to get Elias to back off of insisting one of his men take hold of the SUV—a move he assumed Mike would use to warn Jesse of the suddenly nefarious situation they had all found themselves in—and yet he still had to force her attendance on them. Walter had noted that she protested against going to the Luxury Palace herself and it wasn't until he whispered sharply into her ear that she reluctantly hopped into the passenger seat. Despite that show Walt understood that anything they said would be reported back to her boss. That was certain.

"Is there anything for you at the Palace?" he decided to ask instead of everything else that came to mind.

The corner of her mouth pulled downward as she huffed in annoyance, "Go and hide. Mostly I manage to sneak off to the theater without getting noticed but sometimes I get followed. It's not actually connected to the Palace, it's half a mile down the road so if we're really crafty we can split in the middle of all the raucous."

"That's strange the Mrs. Arciniega would erect a movie theater so far from her establishment," Walter pondered.

"Oh, no. Don't call her that. She'd kill you if she heard you call her that. She's Ms. Kate or Madam Kate or Kitty Kat. And that's not how it went down. His wife may have just added it in the fall but my mom has owned it since we came here. The only reason the theater has joined forces with the Palace is because it doesn't get much business on its own. It's pretty much only good for sexy films and storage but even those rooms are better suited for holding people prisoner. _If you know what I mean_ ," she explained with a roll of her eyes.

She turned back around briefly to take a sip of her water bottle, which was fine since it gave Walter time to ponder everything she said. It seemed to him that her mother had been muscled out by this Kitty Kat and, with the help of Arciniega, she had grown rather powerful in some way. It could be that she always had been powerful though. Elias' description of her "wearing wealth well" and Rune's declaration that she despised being referred to as Mrs. Arciniega gave her the appearance of someone in demand. He wondered if it was because of her that Rune was forced to use her abilities for Eli's business deals; perhaps it was some agreement that allowed her mother to continue collecting funds.

"Well, I think we'd all enjoy accompanying you to the theater, if you don't mind," Walt smiled warmly.

She opened her mouth to speak but was rudely interrupted.

"I think we'd all enjoy if you shut the hell up," Jesse snapped angrily.

His eyes had been focused on the road, totally and completely but the conversation had brought him out of his mind and he did not like that. Jesse had been dwelling on memories that reminded him of happiness—even though happiness seemed so far away from him now. It was Jane's smile, Andrea's eyes, Brock's innocence, and his aunt's laughter that bumped shoulders inside of his cranium. Those people were all dead, most of who because of him, and because of that girl in the front seat making conversation with Mr. White he was forced to endure every emotional assassination that came with all she stirred up. He at least deserved to do it in silence. That was how he felt.

"Jesse, I-"

Mr. White began but it seemed the interruptions were being dolled out in abundance to everyone. It was Rune that spoke quietly, "No, he's right. We should appreciate the silence. You guys won't get it for the next two weeks."

"What!"

Mike nearly swerved into a tree!

Jesse found his heart hammering against his chest as rage pumped through his veins and the fact that Mike—Fring's _guy_ —had no idea made it clear that Gus had no idea either. Since they had stepped foot onto the airplane the trip had been bullshit and as the seconds ticked by it grew shittier and shittier. Brief flashes of shootouts and death vaulted themselves across his mind to the point that he felt an almost instinctual need to grasp the girl as some sort of bargaining chip. He knew the dude needed her; he didn't make any decisions without her! With a gun to the chick's head that two weeks would dwindle down to one hour and he liked the sound of that.

"What do you mean what?" Rune paused, looking from face to face, "I thought you guys were staying two weeks so you could teach the cooks here how to make your product and the cooks could teach you how to make theirs?"

Heroin. Jane. Death.

Every muscle tightened inside of his chest as his mind burned with the image of her beside him, dead. He squeezed his eyes shut and pulled his head backward as his hands formed tight red fists that threatened the bones to pop out beyond his skin. Because of _that girl_ everything was fresh, everything was new as if he were reliving it all for the first time and he couldn't take it. She had been pure, she had been good, on the right path and he dragged her down to hell with him where he belonged. She was an angel and he ruined her. He killed her!

"No, no, no, no," Mr. White shook his head before looking out the window. His face reddening as if we were containing some inner bomb, "That was not the _plan_. I make the purest methamphetamine on the market! That is what I do. I can't be expected to jump ship to what? Smack? No way. On top our 200 pounds a week? No way."

"Once we get to this Luxury Palace we're gonna need a long talk with your boss. The deal was two days and then we're out of here. We'd be losing millions of dollars if we stayed. There's no way we can afford that," Mike hissed.

The girl shook her head nervously, "No. You can't bring it up now. He'll flip out if anyone mentions business when we get there. You have to wait until tomorrow. I know how he is. He's already nervous because of this dream I had and the fact that Jesse was in it? If anything goes wrong on the _first_ night? He'll freak!"

"Wait?" Jesse's eyes flashed open as his shivering body focused on her words, "Dream? I was in that _dream_ that made that psycho crazy? Are you kidding!"

Rune shook her head, feeling like a deer in headlights with all the screaming emotions clouding her once still mind. She tried to take in a deep breath and tried to ignore that buzzing in the back of her head with all the things she needed to tell but could not because she knew they were private. They were focused on her, waiting for her to explain, but all she could do was stare nervously beyond Jesse and into the pain that lashed out at her like a whip. Staring at him was torture, every thing that weighted him down, everything that burned him alive bubbled inside of her like a punishment for some message she had never delivered long ago. Rune shut her eyes and leaned her head against the seat.

"I'm gonna puke," she mumbled, her hand coming up to cover over her mouth.

"Whoa, let's all calm down now. Drink some more of that water," Mike ordered and she was more than happy to listen.

For the first time in a long time she was angry with Elias for forcing her into this position. She had never before known him to make this kind of shady deal and she didn't for one second believe it was all a "misunderstanding." In what way could they misunderstand a two-day trip being stretched into fourteen? She didn't need her gift to know her employer was using his strange way of keeping everyone on their toes for fear of what he might do to take advantage of the guys that had come for an honest to goodness business deal. Rune needed to talk to him about what was going on and needed to figure out what Max meant by bringing Gus to New Jersey and why everything was going out of whack.

"Has everyone all calmed down?" Mike questioned casually, glancing around through the rearview mirror to watch the contorted faces of those occupying the car, "Good. Here's the plan. Keep your mouth's shut, I'll talk to Fring, and we'll handle everything in the morning. There's no way in hell we're staying that long so don't worry about it. Your only concern should be to just keep Arciniega focused on anything but us. We follow Rune to the movie theater and wait out the night. Got it?"

Rune turned around to look at their expressions. To her it seemed that no one could deny what Mike had just made clear, he was the enforcer after all, but her close encounter with everyone in the SUV gave her a closer insight than any of them understood. Most of her information came from Jesse, as heartbreaking as that was, but what she knew of Walt solidified the fact that both men did what they wanted. She would have to distract them, keep them interested, and lead them away without Elias knowing. Rune knew she was way over her head.

Which was exactly how Victor felt.

Like a child yearning to sit in the "fun car" Victor constantly glanced backward in search of what Mike could possibly be talking about with that girl and the assholes. Knowing him the entire trip would be mostly shrouded in silence—which he found to also mean Heaven. To his disappointment both he and Gustavo were being ushered by Diego and Julio. Unfortunately the two spoke as if they hadn't seen each other in ten years; something he knew must be untrue.

"It's five days until the Summer Festival," Julio commented.

"No, four. It starts on Friday, not Saturday," Diego corrected, shaking his head as he looked toward the window to focus on the exits passing by.

"Either way, are you going?"

Diego only smiled.

Victor turned his head toward Gus with a slight raise of his eyebrow.

Gustavo responded with the same note.

It wasn't that Victor was repulsed by the activities being conducted before him. The only thing that repulsed him was how unintimidating the two seemed. Diego was Arciniega's son, he should be representing the entire enterprise by being professional but instead he flirted mildly with the man beside him. If everything were reversed and if they had visited New Mexico instead it would all be different. There would be minimal speaking and maximum action. They would be back home by the morning. That would be all.

"I doubt Nick Jonas will play. Remember last year? It was supposed to be Bon Jovi," Diego chuckled.

"Who ever they have playing, we should still go. I'm sure your father wouldn't mind if you went and he'd probably ask me to accompany you anyway," Julio nodded.

"You think so?"

"I'm sure of it. I'm the only one that can take care of you."

Wow. Victor's eyes drifted out of the window in an attempt to focus on anything but what was going on around him but the cars passing by at top speed only reminded him of one thing. The trouble of distracting yourself from your current position is that you are reminded of things you were trying to distract yourself from in the first place. He had hoped the trip would completely engross him but so far all it had done was throw him for a loop of nostalgia and prayer for the older days. How easy it was for all the good in the world to be shattered by just a single gunshot.

"We're almost there, gentlemen," Diego smiled warmly before returning his focus to the comrade at his side.

"Good," was all Gustavo could manage to say.

They had turned off of the park way and were heading down a long empty road surrounded by houses but as they went on the homes began to disperse until there was one for every mile with trees crowding in between. Many important streets came off of the single road they traveled on but the line of SUV's went straight, straight, straight as if they were storming into enemy territories. After three miles there were no more houses to dot the lonely pavement. After two more the road began to appear over grown by roots from lack of maintenance. The vehicle bobbed this way and that until they turned down a dirty road on the left, leaving the street heading forward into No Man's Land.

"We're here!" Diego grinned, clapping his hands together with a princely gesture toward the grand estate.

They drove toward large gates that were used as the only entrance beyond huge walls surrounding the many acres. The sun had set half an hour ago and so all that could be seen were the many windows of the mansion illuminated with promise of activity. The large gates swung open mechanically and the row of SUV's found their way beneath an overpass that blocked any chance of snow or rain. Men in red vests came to the doors to help each passenger out and Gustavo found this strangely running business far more curious than the one he had come to align himself with in the first place. It appeared to be a marvelous hotel with many employees working with absolute cheer that assured the guests everything inside would be in tiptop shape.

Once out of the vehicle the valet took the keys and drove off toward some garage hidden in the night. Gustavo immediately made eyes with Mike and his group reconnected with the intention of speaking though surrounded by Arciniega's men it seemed impossible to do so. Fring did not need to look at his second in command to know that something was amiss and the young girl had revealed it unwittingly on the ride. The only thing he could hope was for the night to end before Pinkman's morose expression or Victor's callous silence disturbed Elias' mood. He should have listened to his instincts and denied meeting in the foreign state. Already he could see his new partner was a madman; he knew his sole duty was to get his group home before anything ruined the smooth waters that laid beneath their feet.

"Isn't this place something else?" Arciniega grinned, his arm finding its way around Gustavo's shoulders once again, "Wait until you look inside. My wife is a genius!"

Fring nodded with an apprehensive smile and allowed himself to be lead by the man that somehow shared blood with a king he had once known. The large doors of the castle-like mansion opened from the aid of inside forces and immediately revealed a massive room decorated all in white and gold. Accenting the vivid white were paintings and sculptures and ornately colored furniture that gave one the feel of having arrived into a dream world completely separate from the one outside of the doors. Gustavo was impressed and even more so by a wide marble staircase at the center of the room. Though where they stood was huge it was obvious it was only the beginning of the wonders that lay inside the Luxury Palace and more things were hidden inside.

"Gentlemen! I hope you have brought your appetite. My girls are ready to serve."

Gustavo's eyes focused on the woman at the top of the stairs.

The breath was gone from his lungs as he watched her graceful descent down the steps.

Her smile was blazing and her body dipped in gold.

He could identify those eyes in his sleep.

"Welcome to the Luxury Palace."

It was Katalina.


	5. The (Not So) Luxury Palace

The night had just begun to threaten the lovely skies when Junior returned home from a short study session with Louis. Door swinging lazily behind him, crutches clinking as he moved into the living room, eyes scanning in search of his mother or anyone that could be home so much so that he almost seemed like a Bond Villain. It was only 7:45. Skyler did not like the sound of that and so, with Holly against her chest, she stepped out of the kitchen and toward the young man; the young man that loved his father way too much.

"There you are! I was just about to call you. Did you eat?" she questioned as she grabbed the house phone with her free hand, "I was thinkin' about ordering pizza. How does that sound?"

"Sure," he nodded cautiously, "Pizza sounds great."

"Perfect, what d'you want on it?"

"Anything."

Sigh.

Her thumb punched in the numbers mindlessly. She needed all of her focus on not sobbing at the sound of Junior's concern. Skyler could tell what he was doing, even if he didn't know he was doing it himself. He was afraid for her. He was afraid of what she might do. She was almost positive Walter had made some comment about watching her while he was away and so Junior was forced to gaze upon her like a psych patient.

Get it together, Sky, she told herself, You'll get him back eventually.

"Uh, hello. Yes, this is the White residence. Haha, I know, two nights this week we must be celebrating something," she amused the girl on the other line, "We'll have two large pies: one cheese and the other with sausage and peppers. That sounds great. A Coke will do just fine. Yup, thank you very much. Have a nice night."

She placed the phone back into the receiver then walked over to Holly's bassinet so she could comfortably place her down. The princess had fallen asleep half an hour ago but Skyler couldn't bring herself to let her go. At least not until her son had arrived so she could speak to him. She had been under the impression that with Walt gone they could have an actual conversation. There had been no room in her fantasy for this Junior walking on eggshells.

"So what did you do with Louis?" she smiled positively, returning to the kitchen so she could make a quick salad for the meal to come.

"Played videogames," he answered warily, "Don't you think two pies is a lot? I mean dad's not here to eat it with us."

"I was thinking you could have some after school tomorrow. I could have some while working on the car wash your father and I are getting," she answered nervously, "I don't feel like cooking."

"Mom, are you okay?"

It was as if he had found her drinking while breastfeeding the baby. Walt had done a wonderful job making her seem like the terrible parent. But she shoved those feelings down to smile warmly at her son, "I am. And hey, weren't you supposed to be studying?"

"Mom!" his face cracked into a grin. A spark of light erupted inside of her chest as the sight of her old mischievous teen seemingly resurrected from the dead, "We did study but then we played video games."

She laughed to herself while shaking her head, "Sure you did."

Skyler pulled the bowl of salad from the kitchen to the dinning room table but Junior stopped her, "You think we could watch some TV while we eat tonight? We haven't done it in a while. It'd be pretty cool."

"Hm," she stared hard at him as if she were considering the question but quickly she nodded her head with a sigh, "Alright, but only while your father's away."

"What do you think he's doing right now?" Skyler paused, "You know him, he's always got some work to do."

 

 

**Breaking Bad:**

_**The (Not so) Luxury Palace** _

 

"From this point on, I suggest you stop considering yourselves as businessmen. Nothing but these four walls and your wildest fantasies exist. We are here to serve you, to heed your every desire, and most of all to make you forget all that causes you the greatest stress in the world: your job, your responsibilities, and—above all else—your wife."

It was rolling waves of blissful chocolate that came to mind when Kate began to speak. Melting, swirling, exotic oceans of delight floated from her lips like stars born into space. She enunciated each word as if they were forced to resist falling backward into her mouth for the sake of being pleasured by a human tongue. There was not a man she had ever come across that could claim they found themselves uninspired by her gest. She was enthralling and it was clear that she knew it.

Kate descended the last few steps so that she was on even ground with the men and yet she still stood taller than them all. Many questioned how she could survive wearing such high heels but it was less about the pain and more about the authority it gave to her. Being taller meant that all the eyes were on you and to make it in this world that was exactly what you needed. People would look at her regardless of what she wore, said, or did. Kate simply preferred to have all the attention benefit her in some way and so she made her business do just that.

"You may all sit and make yourselves comfortable. The girls will be with us in just a moment."

With a long sweep of her arm she directed to them to a bonfire-like sitting arrangement of hand embroidered ottomans surrounding a clear table. It was at this point her guests usually pulled out their enhancement of choice and with it all on the table it suggested they were surrendering everything they had secret to her will. Her girls would bring their own stash but not for their own use. Kate—and her girls by extension—had many secrets that shrouded her Palace in absolute mystery. Many patrons complained of memory loss and dry mouth once the morning came but for some reason the first half of the evening was so vividly clear they didn't care about anything else that had gone on. No one could deny Kate put on a show and she made certain there was no need for her to deny anything either.

Kate found her way at Elias' side once again. Oh, how he annoyed her and yet she wanted to never break away from his arm around her waist. Marrying him had been the second best decision she had ever made. It wasn't for protection, for money, for drug insight or any of that. Being married meant she never had to participate in any activities unless she choose so which gave her an even more desirable quality. Many politicians and lawyers and celebrities found their way into the Luxury Palace and her hidden collection of photographs made it clear which were important and which were not.

And besides, Elias was kind. He had a way about him that was so friendly and yet so frightening at the same time. He was intelligent enough to build his own empire and yet dimwitted enough to listen to Kate's every command. Though she would never call it that ("it's just a suggestion, my love") she still managed to make him work for her exactly how she wished. Her girls had a thick folder on each of his men and the men that came with him too. It wasn't that Kate's patrons left empty-handed, she still supplied her service, they just left with a couple screws missing and there was nothing she could do about that.

The table was filled with powders, pot, and pills without even the slightest suggestion and already she watched the golden child indulge himself. It was funny to think that most of her information came not from Elias but from his darling son Diego. He was a cute boy, couldn't keep his hands off of anyone when under the influence and she liked that. It made it easier to control him and controlling him was what she needed to do. Once Elias served his purpose she would need to move on and he was next in line for the hand made empire. Diego loved Kate like a mother and would do nothing to displease her. It was way too easy to gather love from the Arciniega men.

A loud whistle from Stu captured her attention and she looked to the staircase where her girls were lined on top of the stairs along the railing, as was their usual place. Kate grinned happily as she stood from her husband and glided to the end of the large flight to begin her introductions for the benefit of the new guests.

"Quiet now, you animals!" she laughed as she reached over for the hand of her prodigy, "Cathy, darling, go get their drink orders. I'll send someone to go help you in a minute."

Cathy was a small girl, standing at five feet with heels on, but was very thin. She looked malnourished though she ate like a Viking and was treated like garbage though behind closed doors she was the second in command. Her hair was dark like raven wings and she kept it in a bun a top her head, held by red ribbons that she had matching the red around her waist. She always wore polka dot dresses—tonight black—and was the bait of the silent man that held secrets so tight they could not wait to be let out onto someone gentle and sweet. She was not gentle and sweet but as she bounced from man to man to get drink orders they would have no clue.

"Here she is! Here she is!" Kate delighted, "I am unworthy of you, lovely Winnie!"

Winnie was pushing forty and in their world that meant pack up and get out or get married fast. She really was beautiful but it was clear her age was getting the best of her and so Kate always made a show by dedicating the evening to painting the picture that Winnie was nearly untouchable and so needed to be touched all the more. She had sparkling blue eyes and blonde hair that bounced down her huge ass in curls but she had old hands hidden behind long gloves and old feet hidden behind long dresses. Her target audience was the young and inexperienced but with all of Kate's flattery she got love every which way. Besides, when they were all naked she still had a body that took even the most well lived man's breath away.

"Aria," Kate rolled her eyes.

Her hair was short and platinum blonde that invited the comparison to Miley Cyrus that she needed. By pretending they weren't on good terms Aria seemed rebellious and willing to do anything to spite the Madame that had treated her so well. She might run away with a certain young man willing to treat her right enough. But really she was the bondage girl (something none of the other girls were into) and by giving off the impression that she was wild it made it clear which girl like to be tamed. It was a precaution they liked to take, even though Kate made it clear before any one arrived which girls were into that stuff and which were not.

"Jada, dear. Melissa, sweetie-pie. Ramona, honey. Meredith, baby. Yasmin, lovey. Elliot, star. Janice, my heart."

These girls were in the prime of their life and needed no encouragement for the boys. They were between the ages of twenty-one and twenty-five and were absolutely fit and stunning. Jada and Melissa were sexy Africans with long hair and bright eyes. Ramona and Yasmin were hot Latinas that kept their clothes tight and their underwear nonexistent. Meredith was the red haired, fair skinned, and freckled Irish. Elliot was a country blonde girl from anywhere that was convenient. Janice was the Mila Kunis of the bunch and that was all the description she needed.

"My twins!" Kate clapped happily as the next two blondes descended down the steps, "Emma and Emily, you two are adorable as always." They weren't really twins. They just happened to look strangely alike which was odd because Emma was Mexican and Emily was French but it worked for them. They took a liking to each other immediately and Kate had the idea they dye their hair blonde and even dress the same to make sure everyone had the same thoughts she did. Their eyes were the same Heavenly brown; they had the same beauty mark on their right buttocks; even had the same fear of airplanes. If they weren't working for Kate they might have been considered soul mates but on her payroll they were twins and that was how they kept it.

"Sophie, are you sure you would like to come out tonight? I know you're not feeling well. You may be excused back to your room."

Of course, Sophie would deny. The dark haired vixen always held a sickish tint to her skin though nothing could be found wrong with her. To make up for this Kate took the sickness as an advantage. By pretending Sophie was sick it would identify whom the soft hearts were. The men that asked of her well being often found it easier to "fall" in love with her and after a night of deep conversation she would retire to her chamber and they would follow.

"Spencer!" Kate called out angrily, "Put on some clothes!"

"Hey! Let her stay like that! We like it!"

Kate used Spencer to remind the men of what they came for. The other girls dressed elegantly—some even very conservative—which could confuse the atmosphere from sexual to simply festive and so Spencer came down in nothing but a two-piece bikini. Black triangles over the nipples, and a triangle over her friend left string for her bottom and every man she sat on extremely happy. Even the most unwilling were teased by her long brown hair and encouraged to watch exactly where it ended. She enjoyed being the first one thrown to the wolves—Kate noted by the end of the night she was usually in her room enjoying a bubble bath and having a nice read.

"Last but certainly not least!"

"Ann!"

Ann was always a big hit. She was the comedian, the one that made everyone comfortable and the one that made everyone laugh. No one knew where Ann came from and no one cared. She could play poker, drink scotch, and smoke cigars with the men one second and in the other have three guys crawling after her. Ann was a blast in and out of the sac and no one could forget her. She made the environment warm, friendly, and comfortable. It was more than just sex and drugs when Ann was around. It was fun with her and Kate liked that.

"Now that the girls are here," Kate began, once again gaining the control of the entire room. Cathy and the servants had returned with the drinks while some of the guys had already indulged in white noses, "Let's have fun!"

Shouts from the regulars warned her that this tense group needed to be comforted in all the ways a man can be comforted by a woman and that was what she liked to hear. Her eyes gazed over the new faces and could already tell whom she needed to direct to whom. The old man would need to feel young again with Jada. The bald man with the glasses would feel more comfortable talking with Winnie. The sad puppy needed someone to take care of to get rid of some survivor's guilt and so would do well with Sophie. The silent young guy would do wonders with Cathy and the…

"Slow down there, Ann! Last time you almost dropped your ass over the railing!"

"You shut that mouth of yours, you idiot! I'll drink what I want to and you'll join me!"

"You know no one can keep up with you!"

"Which is why I love making you try! Cathy, you little bitch, get me four Jägerbombs and keep them coming!"

"Diego, not here!"

"Then don't grind on me, bonita!" "

You look like you need a drinking partner."

"I'll do fine on my own, thank you."

"Hey gramps, want to show me if that thing down there still works?"

"You call that a blunt? This is how you roll a blunt!"

It couldn't be.

She refused it.

And yet her heart hammered aggressively inside of her chest.

Her skin vibrated angrily beneath her husband's touch.

The smile on her face grew harder and harder until it wasn't a smile anymore.

He had hardly changed. His dermis still was black as night.

His eyes still the same shark infested tar pits.

It had been nearly a quarter of a century since she had last seen him and in the rough twenty-four years on her own she had hoped somewhere he had died. The softness of his face gave her the impression that maybe he did. But that was impossible. She knew immediately what the softness in him was because it was the same softness in her. It was a fake for the sake of Elias. The man that worked so hard to make sure everyone had a good time. If he truly were himself there would be no room for joyous activity in her Palace.

But why pretend?

It wasn't like…

But oh, it was.

It was for Max.

Kate's chest tightened as her mouth fell into a tiny thin line. She wanted to shoot him. Elias had, of course, explained what was happening. His dead cousin—that in her opinion should have stayed dead—had given him the name of a man in which to consult. They got in contact and it turned out he was the distributor of the delicious Sky Blue everyone had been raving about. They were going to do business, Elias and this man, and it would spread his Dragon Fire across the entire continent. That was the intention. But no longer was it the plan.

It became clear that Kate had to think fast but for what she wanted to do she needed time. Elias had said his goal was to elongate the stay of his guests from two days to two weeks but no man in his right mind would stay that long willingly. She would need a full night of thinking devoted to their destruction but she needed to act in that second or she would die. She could already tell that his men weren't biting though the young silent man with his dark eyes followed Cathy wherever she did go. There was a death eating at him he needed to get off of his chest but just like Negro he was a vault. But her Cathy was an expert at picking locks.

Her head turned to gaze at the girl returning with another order of drinks and she quickly mouthed, "Man in the red shirt. You know what to do."

Kate needed no confirmation. Cathy was her best girl and would need no coaching. She could handle everything on her own but still it wasn't enough. His eyes were on her and they were digging into her and she digging into him but nothing would be good enough until she had a knife at his throat with one swift chopping motion. Because it wasn't just a desire to pull him down beneath her heels, it was a necessity.

Languidly Kate lowered herself into her husband's lap and wrapped her arms lovingly around his neck as she leaned over to press a kiss to his neck. He responded happily—she didn't show much affection—and kissed her lightly on the nose. She smiled at him and with her hand on his chest she could feel his heart fluttering and that brought her joy. Kate knew she had him in her hands and so she leaned forward with her mouth on his ear and whispered, "Your friend continues to look at me."

"Who can take their eyes off of you, my love?"

His response was harmless but still she could feel his body tense beneath her.

He smiled, "Gustavo! This is my love Kate. Isn't she stunning?"

"Fit to be your wife."

Kate lost her breath.

She had to kill him.


	6. The Morning After

It was a very particular form of din that diluted the once silent air into something barely recognizable as silence at all. Though in the hallway where Gus stood there was no sound to be made by even his footsteps yet he could still distinctly hear everything that was going on elsewhere in the Palace. In the bowling alley a heavy game was occurring that required rapid succession of turns. In the dessert parlor machines were whirling into motion for what he presumed to be the birth of some pastry. He wasn't certain but Gus was pretty sure he could hear a go-kart rink in full swing somewhere bellow the first two floors he had occupied. Many of the rooms were busy with shut doors.

Except for Katalina's.

The first sight of her had brought him nothing but atrophy. Each organ had withered into a smaller size so that his body could hold in all the emotions that threatened to explode at once. The woman was a ghost upon his memories and though by daylight he never conceived to think of her it was on his loneliest nights that her face did ring through out his corpse. He had left her behind, far behind in Chile and had the hopes of not seeing her until they were too old to strangle each other and too old to do anything but talk. And yet there she was on his new partner's lap. There she was.

Young Rune had escorted Gustavo, Jesse, Walter, Mike and Victor to the movie theater half a mile away from the wreckage but somehow he had wandered back through the secret door in the wall. It was a terrible idea, he knew, but whatever had been added to his wine made him not so wise anymore. He was still in his right mind, he was still able to recall everything he did, it was just the little part of himself that calculated action before hand was on break. The large part of him that acted on emotion—a part usually left dormant—was wide awake and ready to face the woman he had lost twenty-four years ago. He hoped someone would stop him before he got to her bedroom door and yet no one did.

Outside Gus could see the door open wide enough for him to take full view of the scene. Elias laid sprawled across the floor half dressed while Katalina stood in her lingerie and in the process of removing her heals. He assumed—or prayed—that they had not been intimate and instead he had passed out from excessive indulgence in the process. The sight of his arm around her, the sight of their kiss, the sight of their exchange disturbed him much worse than anything that had disturbed him before. His stomach flew in knots that reminded him of the poison he had consumed to get his revenge on the Cartel.

Oh, yes.

That's what it was.

Katalina had become poison.

No, she had always been.

She changed slowly into a cream, satin jumpsuit with a neckline that plummeted just above her navel. Each action she used to touch her body appeared sensual as if she knew he was watching. Gustavo wanted, for the moment, to abandon all discretion and reveal himself to her so that she could stop dressing and instead turn to him so that he could touch her arms once again. But that was impossible. Not even totally under the influence would he ever touch her again.

Instead he stepped back into the shadows and waited for her to emerge from her room. She was no longer in heels, which meant she was only slightly taller than him but still he felt that they were equals. Katalina did not seem surprised that he was there and instead of retreating she walked forward until they were directly in front of one another. Their eyes completely focused and unwavering in their demand. If he wanted to kiss her he could. But in that moment there was no such desire.

When he pulled back he could see the tiniest smile upon her red lips. She leaned forward and in the same tone declared, "I know."

 

 

**Breaking Bad:**

_**The Morning After** _

 

Jesse jumped out of sleep the way a cobra jumps out of a mongoose den. There had been no sound to disturb him and no dream he could recollect that forced him to do so but all of a sudden he was awake and he had no idea where he had been. He was sitting up without realizing he had moved at all and as he blinked away the sand from his eyes he saw he was alone. Jesse felt the urge to scream for Mr. White but he abandoned that idea once he focused on where he really was.

It was a small room filled with boxes upon boxes of unmarked cardboard. He had slept on a bed that appeared too fancy for such a storage space and was disturbed by the shackles at the foot and head of the thing. The mattress was comfortable enough, the sheets were smooth and warm to the touch, the pillows appeared not even used but some how that didn't put him at ease. There was one small window against the wall and a thick black curtain that hardly let in any light covered it. He wondered if he had been kidnapped.

But who would want him?

The door opened to reveal Mr. White looking just as out of it as Jesse felt. He motioned grimly for Jesse to get out of bed and to follow him, "Come on. We're talking out here."

With a little mental push Jesse was on his feet and following Mr. White out of the room. It was easy to see they had both slept in their clothes and were suffering the discomfort of such an activity. Mr. White shuffled uncomfortably out of another hallway like room and through a door that revealed a bunch of little seats all facing a large screen. Jesse blinked and it came to him that he had slept behind the large screen in that room and they were in the movie theater owned by Rune's mother. He felt slightly relaxed by that fact but the only trouble was he couldn't remember how he got there.

Down the aisle and out to the brightly lit hallway Jesse could see many doors leading to many theaters like an AMC or something. He wondered why it would do so poorly if it had so much space and from what he could tell way more to spare. Perhaps it was the location out in the boonies or right next to a whorehouse.

"How you doin' kid?"

Jesse's eyes found Mike at the end of the hall, motioning for he and Mr. White into some other part of the elaborate building. His hand reached up to rub across his head as he questioned angrily, "What the hell happened?"

"We're trying to figure out the same thing," he huffed and then disappeared into a room.

The room in which he disappeared into was a cafeteria like place Jesse soon realized by the criminally bright lights and the four large round tables situated at the corners of the place. Long rows of white cabinets hid things he could only imagine, a sink with dishes neatly washed rested on a counter, there were two doors for men's and women's bathrooms, two vending machines against the wall and a thick refrigerator to one side. Down a small hallway he could see an exit to the outside and with that light shining in he knew it was day. A leather couch rested across one end of the hallway and across from that a bank of payphones. He walked to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water before plopping down at the round table where everyone sat.

At the table sat Rune, Mike, Mr. White, Gus, Victor, and now him. Each one had a similar arrangement of pretzels, original chips, granola bars, water, or orange juice in front of them and all but Rune had the look of death on their face. He didn't like the sight of her with them. After all, hadn't she been sent to ride with them as like…some sort of spy? Her eyes glanced upward to him but he looked away, angry at the idea that she could possibly find out everything he thought with just one look. He knew this trip would be bullshit. Just knew it.

"Now, you were saying," Mike instructed the girl, motioning for her to continue.

"What I tell you has to remain between us. All right? If anyone finds out I told you I will get my ass handed to me and possibly murdered," she began tentatively, "I assume you all know I'm not using that as a figure of speech."

Victor made no move to nod as he focused on the woman in front of him. He had been trying to figure out the events of the evening but all he could recall was the taste of Gale's name in his mouth and the sweet blue eyes that had listened to him say it. The orange juice in front of him did nothing to quench the burning of his throat as he shoved the memories down. Victor could never forgive himself if he had used of the man's life in front of a stranger that didn't deserve it. Why would he talk about him? Why?

"The only reason I'm even telling you guys is because you didn't go along with any of the 'Luxury' over here and I feel bad you've got to deal with this," she sighed.

It was clear that the admission she was about to make weighed heavily on her. Her black eyes—too much like his that were too much like his boss'—were tossing back and forth across the table as if she were watching a fly buzz all over the place. Her head was low. Her jaw set in a strong clench. Victor thought if she didn't speak soon one of them would grab her and shake the information from her once and for all. But they didn't.

"They put stuff in the drinks," she let out but before anyone could speak she began to explain, "It's really not that bad. Most of the guys are usually fucked up anyway so all it does is make them go to sleep. They have their fun for a few hours, start getting lethargic, and then pass out. It's easier on the girls that way. They don't have to spend the whole night twisted like pretzels cause some guy sniffed too much blow and can't finish."

It was easy to understand the atmosphere inside of that room. Victor could tell that each man—including himself—had become royally pissed off by the idea of being drugged and wanted nothing more than to storm the Luxury Palace to take action but at the same time…No one knew what to say. Rune's quick explanation made sense to them. Victor would have been alright if he didn't have that tugging on the corner of his brain reminding him that he had spoken about someone he didn't dare to speak about again. He grabbed one of the pretzels in front of him and took a loud, angry bite. He didn't know what to say.

"So," the word was loud though it was spoke in Gus' mannered tone, "Mrs. Arciniega makes a habit of drugging her guests?"

"It's Kate," Rune snapped as politely as she could, "She doesn't like to be called that. It's Ms. Kate, Madame Kate, or Kitty Kat but not that. And it's not like she does it in a bad way. No one knows about it, not even Elias so don't go mentioning it over breakfast—please."

"Wait a second. You're telling me he has no idea his wife is drugging him?" Walter questioned.

"No. Before they were married he was customer of the month! They go there at least once every two weeks; they bring all their guests there and usually everyone's all into it. You guys are the only ones that've ever protested and I don't know why he dragged you along anyway. No one goes to the Luxury Palace just to hang out," her voice trailed off as she looked away from them and mumbled, "No one's stupid enough to make that mistake."

Silence took hold of the room as speculation came to sit with them at the table. Victor was certain it wasn't just he considering what could have happened to her in that place. Maybe she had gone with Elias one night, it got to crazy, someone forgot that Rune was not apart of the show and took advantage. It could be that on a lone night some men wandered from the Palace to the movie theater and found Rune by herself. Perhaps that was why her mother had given it up. Or maybe she had worked there herself and Elias had discovered her gift there. It could be anything and Victor knew his head was too swollen to figure it out.

"So what happens now?"

Mike was tired of the listening and the talking; he needed a plan to follow immediately. They had entered the state blind but with an entire night's worth of information they could figure out what to do and how to handle themselves in the presence of Arciniega and his men. It was obvious they couldn't shoot their way out—Gus had told him long ago the reason for his revenge on the Cartel and the fact that Elias was blood with the man Gus had spilled blood for meant a lot more hassle than he would like to admit—but they couldn't sit there and let the man push them around. Mike didn't care if Rune was there and would immediately go tell her boss everything they said once the "meeting" was over. He was tired of going with the flow; he needed to build a dam.

"What do you mean what happens now?" Jesse snapped angrily, "We get the hell out!"

A soft roll of his eyes gave Jesse Mike's answer but Walter was quick to speak, "We can't just leave out of the blue, Jesse. It would start a war."

"Across the country?" he questioned incredulously, "Can't you just…take him out?"

He had directed his question to Gus but Gus was silent. His eyes—as always—were dark and hid any thought his mind could have with mystery and respect. Mike wondered if he would tell Walter and Jesse the real reason for the deal and exactly what the name Arciniega meant to him but he doubted it. Fring was a man of many secrets and not so many friends to tell them all too. Despite the minor look of disturbance set beyond his features he was still the same wise man that seemed to know exactly what to do in every situation. He would have a plan. Mike knew it.

"We will not go to war with Elias. We will stay."

Alright, that was not what Mike had expected him to say.

"With all due respect," Mike began, "I find that an insane proposition."

"It'll make us look like bitches!" Jesse growled.

"I think what Jesse means is that it will make us look weak. If we follow his absurd plan what's to say he doesn't spring something new on us further down the line? Do you have any idea why he wants us to stay? It's so we can learn how to make his heroin. Did you agree to that? Because I sure didn't and I sure won't."

Walter's voice was calm and lacking aggression. Mike knew that voice and he was certain Fring knew it too. It was the voice he used when he was in the process of scheming in some way but needed just a little more time to figure it out. Though Mike wanted to get out of Jersey that second he knew he would not listen to Walter what so ever. It was his scheme that killed an innocent man after all.

"I have no intention of having you cook his heroin just as I have no intention of distributing it either. I knew very well the risk of agreeing to Elias' proposition but I did it in honor of a mutual friend of ours that is no long with us. I have fulfilled my obligation of arriving but after witnessing how he conducts his business I feel there is no place for us here."

"Good," Jesse nodded, "So let's get the hell out of here!"

Mike knew what was coming next, "It's not that simple."

"Yes, _it is_ ," he protested.

"No," Gus denied, "It isn't. Just as I have I am sure you have all noticed Elias and his…instability. Despite our disinterest in the deal I still do not want to end things on a violent note. We will meet him halfway and stay one week and one week only."

"We'll be losing money," Victor commented.

"By pulling our product off the market our customers will seek out our competitors."

"Yeah…isn't that a bad thing?" Jesse questioned.

"Only if their product is better than ours. By using meth with a lesser quality it will remind them that our brand is superior. We'll be able to charge double the price and will more than make up for our minor set bac-"

"That sounds great and all but you guys are forgetting one thing."

All eyes turned to Rune, "What?"

"The part where everyone dies."


	7. What Was, Will Always Be

The fresh scent of turned soil festered angrily against the ripe nostrils of one, hung over, Diego Arciniega. Though the man stood tall and refined in his five hundred dollar suit his inside was liquefied putty. His face—like many of the other men—still held a red, puffy tint that served as a reminder of their bi-yearly promise of cutting back on the drugs. And yet there they stood, as they did every other day, completely fucked up; there they stood aching to return home.

But alas, they could not go home. Diego leaned over the railing to watch the two "scientist" working on their patented "Blue Sky" in the lab that had previously been home to the fabulous technicians creating Arciniega's Heroin, Arciniega's Ecstasy, Arciniega's Molly, and (as of six months ago) Arciniega's Marijuana. Diego remembered with Elias had first decided to plant his own Marijuana field. It had been after some late night rendezvous at Kate's and in the morning, over breakfast, he had declared a dream in which he was rolling in green. It was a surprise to Diego but he knew it wasn't impossible. After all, their laboratory was in an old, abandoned factory in the middle of the woods with nothing but space all around.

They gathered a handful of old, poor farmers that knew the land and put them to work. The men had constructed a way to get rid of the old trees around without leaving a single root in place behind—Elias allowed them to keep the trees for their own purposes—while somehow concocting a way to make the soil far more fertile than it had been all the years before. The old farmers made sure to look after the plants and protect them from incoming bad weather while also getting rid of pesky rodents that might want to feed on the product. For the picking Diego suggested immigrants looking to make some hard cash would work—and it did. Over all, their emergence into the Marijuana enterprise had gone well for them.

Except for the constant shit smell.

The constant shit smell Kate didn't mind but what she did mind was the long waiting. Her husband had been surprised when she decided she would go along to watch the two men "cook" their special formula but he did not deny her invitation. Kate usually never went along to that sort of thing yet she had decided it suddenly became the most important thing in the world to her. Sitting against the rails looking over the laboratory, as if she were sitting against the catwalk at fashion week, she gazed at the movements of the two men that were so mechanical and fluid. She had learned of their names—Heisenberg and Jesse—and had automatically assumed the young guy would dwarf in comparison to the older gentleman but she was surprised. They both worked together like the swimming fish of the zodiac. They were symbiotic.

A tap to her shoulder captured her attention and she looked to see Cathy returning with her drink. She nodded shallowly while taking a sip. To the average watcher it would seem like a simple transaction between servant and master but in reality it held so much more. A note had been passed between the fingers of the women that could not be gazed at any time soon. Kate held onto the note and dipped it into the pocket of her long, black cardigan hanging over the edge of her seat. Her wide-brimmed, white hat and thick sunglasses blocked the expression of gratitude that Kate expressed to her equal. All any one would see was indifference to a slave.

The note contained as much information as Cathy could gather on the man known now as Gustavo Fring. Kate had made a show of needing something to drink and so Elias ordered some men to take Cathy to a store very far from their location. Stu and Roy—the dumb pricks—talked constantly and with little prodding. She could tell the note with thick with Cathy's tiny scrawl. The information didn't truly matter since she would destroy him just as equally if he were a beggar or a king. But it served well to know thy enemy.

Even one she had known like the back of her hand.

A long, long time ago.

**Breaking Bad:**

**_What Was, Will Always Be_ **

_Chile, June 1976_

"My father won't like this," Katalina whispered with an apathetic expression.

"My father is dead," Negro responded in the same tone.

His hand rested against her cheek, stroking the red of her hair away from her fair skin. The bed beneath her back was warm with their recent activity though the single sheet covering their naked bodies made her feel rather cool. They were in his home by the beach—a very well put together shack he had made with his bare hands—and so the gentle sea breeze drifted between the window blinds to remind her that this peace would be short lived. And yet his hand, continually caressing her face, made her think otherwise. She liked his dark eyes that seemed to get darker as they gazed upon her body and facial features. She liked his nighttime complexion.

"I know who you are," she whispered as she looked beyond his face to whatever she could find hiding. Katalina was good at finding secrets but when she looked at him she couldn't figure anything out. She always knew when someone had tipped over the edge of lust and into total adoration but he still remained cool and clear as if they had not just had the most passionate sex of her entire life. He was a mystery.

She had expected him to flinch or tense up but he did no such thing, "Who told you?"

"My father," she answered, hating that she continued to mention him without her control.

"Do you care?" he paused as he watched her, "Do you care what he thinks?"

Slowly she shook her head, "No."

"What do you care about?"

"I don't know. Nothing. Myself."

"Do you want something to care about?"

His voice had grown smooth as his hand dropped down to rest against her neck, his fingers dipping against her skin as if he were threatening to snap her brainstem with just a simple motion. She didn't know what he meant by that; he could mean anything. He could be asking if she wanted to fall in love, he could be asking if she wanted to be apart of his great history, or he could mean nothing by his question. Negro was a challenge and she was someone that had never been challenged before. She didn't like it but she did enjoy it.

"I take it your silence means yes."

She lifted herself slightly on her elbows so that their face had become closer. From her position their eyes were no longer connected and if she wanted she could punch his face with her forehead and break his nose. But she wouldn't do that. Instead Katalina leaned her mouth toward his with no intention of kissing him, "What if I said no?"

"I would tell you to leave," he answered coyly.

"What are you offering me?"

"The chance to figure out what you want."

With a slight shift of his shoulders she was on her back once more and he was on top of her. His mouth pressed against her neck to succeed in an area that no man had ever succeeded in before. Her hands lifted to rest against his spinal cord—nails raised against his smooth skin—as she shut her eyes to listen to him speak.

"And then the chance to take it."

_Chile, March 1981_

Negro didn't have to wonder where Katalina was.

Just as Katalina never had to wonder where Negro was.

Since their lives had collided like atoms in a universe there was a connection between them that could not be severed. They had the same mind and same soul and often carried out each other's thoughts before needing them to be verbally expressed. Somehow they had become so tuned into one another it seemed they were less like a couple and more like fingers of a hand. One glance communicated thousands of words that were picked up with such incredible accuracy they were often frightened of the world that belonged to just them two. But they liked the fear; they liked the passion.

"Wine, General Rosenberg?"

"I much prefer whiskey, dry."

"A true American."

Over the years Negro had grown from the son of the most famous man in Chile to someone that was far more reputable on his own. Negro had always been a very intuitive man. He could always read a situation and adapt to the vibes being admitted into the atmosphere. He could always tell a person he wanted to work with from a man that would destroy him entirely. Sometimes he could even predict the future with such accuracy people claimed he was a _brujo_.

But everything had changed with Katalina.

Because of her special abilities and their immediate connection the two seemed to have accessed a gateway into the universe that only they could see. They never spoke of the strange new things that had developed before them but they used it together to benefit their life and their future. All of a sudden they were living in a luxurious house on top of the cliffs by the shore. All of a sudden they had over fifty men working for them and helping them acquire a sum of wealth that would be classless to divulge. Together they were climbing their way to the absolute top and getting rid of all the dead weight in their way.

Negro returned with the whisky and placed it before the General as he took his seat across from the man. Together they were sat at the dining room table—his back against the open space of the living room and his guest with his back to the swinging door connecting to the kitchen—that looked out across the cliff to the rolling ocean waves through a singular glass wall that doubled as a sliding door. Negro had cooked the meal they would be sharing and had made sure they could speak in comfortable peace without unwanted ears listening in. He believed in the saying "You don't know a man until you have watched him eat" and so he conducted most of his private proceedings over a good plate of food. That was his thing.

"What are we doing here, Negro?" Rosenberg questioned after taking a sip of his drink.

He had already begun to eat and so he motioned for the man across from him to do the same, "Please, I'd feel much more comfortable if you ate while we spoke.

" "Fine," the man sighed but a quick scoop of rice into his mouth made his eyes bulge with enjoyment, "I'm impressed. This is actually delicious."

"It's an old family recipe," Negro admitted as he watched the man continue to eat.

General Rosenberg had not been a general in over fifteen years but in his time with the U.S. Military he had acquired quite some power. He was filthy rich and knew many powerful leaders—powerful leaders Negro knew would not be powerful for long—but the one thing Negro admired about the man more than anything else was his anonymity. Most of his dealings occurred with no connection to him and many of his men working for him had no idea they were working for him. He was a ghost and those that did know him or what he did were made known by him. His close associates he went through with a fine-toothed comb.

Negro gave him the utmost respect.

"I'm really grateful for this meal but I have to be honest with you. I don't see how we could benefit each other at all. In fact, as far as I can tell, we'd only get in each other's way!" the General chuckled as he shook his head. But Negro wasn't laughing.

"I know," he declared coldly, "Which is why I have brought you here to inform you that you many continue with your other exploits but Chile is mine and soon Mexico will be mine too. Do you understand?"

"You fucking punk," the General slammed his fists against the table, "I'll kill you with that smug expression still on your face."

Negro shook his head, "Not if I kill you first. Do we have a deal?"

"Never, you little piece of shit," he hissed as he grabbed his steak knife.

"Such a shame."

The swinging door of the kitchen shoved open to reveal Katalina in her floor length satin black dress and a sharp knife in her hand. Her arm lashed out around the man's head and she slammed it backward as she sawed through the man's neck with the jagged edge of the blade. Blood projected in every direction around them as the man convulsed and lashed out with his hands that could not grab at Katalina's skinny body. She held his neck back and watched the crimson explosion until his body went limp in the chair and he was dead. A small huff escaped her mouth as she slapped the weapon against the table and began to slip out of her soiled dress.

Negro stood himself and began to unbutton his red splattered shirt but paused to check his watch, "We're going to be late for our reservation."

"I changed it this morning to 8:30," Katalina huffed again in order to make the hair from her face leave without touching her own skin.

Negro walked around the table to finish the job her breath could not complete, "I bought you a new dress, it's upstairs on the bed."

"It better be," she smirked.

He knew she was in the kitchen the whole time.

_Chile, September 1985_

"So you're just going to leave me here," Katalina hissed, "Alone!"

"Darling, don't yell," Negro commented mildly as he continued to pack his luggage, "I told you. I'll have some of my men to stay behind to look after you. I'll return every three months to check on you and the baby, I'll be here for the birth, and then once everything is settled you can come with Max and me to Mexico. How many times do I have to explain this to you?"

"Just until I understand how you could make this decision without me."

Katalina didn't scream again but she didn't have to. Her eyes were screaming. Her large green eyes painted in emotions like stars—too many to count. Her hands were squeezing at the edges of the small nightstand behind her so tight Negro was sure her palms would begin to bleed. He didn't have an answer for her. He just continued to pack.

"What's stopping you from staying over there and forgetting all about me? Hm? What's preventing you from doing that?"

The question was spat at him so harshly he could almost feel the spit on his face that she wished to produce. But she was a lady, raised with absolute class and she would always stick to that. He zipped up his suitcase and walked toward her as if he would strike her with his fist but instead he rested his hand against her hardly bulging womb. Negro thought his answer would be enough to fill her with security but he could have never anticipated her response to his simple answer, " _Our child_ is the promise that I will return."

" _Our child_ is gone!"

Negro's hand became limp as he stepped back from the woman that had expelled him with burning flames. She watched his eyes that always were so dark finally become clear. Poison was pumping through her veins and tainting everything her heart wanted her to say to the point that her heart decided it would never speak again. Tears that she had never seen before fell from the man's eyes and she did not care. Tears were falling from her eyes too. She wanted him to die.

"I got rid of _our child_ as soon as I found out you were leaving!" she declared with her head held high, "Are you happy now, Negro? You killed it. Your greed killed _our baby_. I hope you never sleep again."

His hand was around her throat in less than a second.

He had never before touched her in this way and yet it felt so right to him. The woman that had been his life had suddenly become a demon he needed to get rid of so that her monstrosity would no longer curse the world. She needed to die and he needed to die too.

In her desperate attempt she grasped the lamp behind her and slammed it against the crown of his head but all it did was loosen his hold. It wasn't until she kneed him in the groin that he released her and fell back onto the bed. She screamed at the top of her lungs, "Get out of here! You bastard! You bring death wherever you go! You kill everything you love! Never come back here again! I hate you! I hate you! I hope you die! Burn in hell you bastard! Rot in Mexico, you son of a bitch!"

_Mexico, February 1986_

His name was Gustavo Fring now and Gustavo needed the touch of a woman to wash away the sins of his old life. He swore he would never return to that old place and would never return to that old woman that had aged the way a witch does once her true nature is revealed. Instead of auburn hair he chose a woman with hair like raven wings. Instead of a woman with emerald eyes he chose a woman with eyes like the earth. She was color of afternoon sunlight and not like winter rain.

She was a Navajo woman and he had no idea what she was doing in Mexico and he did not ask. She was gentle to him like a wise woman healing the sick and the pained. She told him there was a hole put in him at birth that he could never fill alone. She said he walked with darkness and was burned by the light. She said his father's mistakes did not soil him. She said their son would return to him in the moonlight.

He never saw her again.

The son returned but Gus could never be a father.

He couldn't even make an attempt.

_United States, July 2010_

Gus made no attempt to hide his revulsion.

The sight of Elias' hand on Kata-…on _Kate_ 's arm was enough to make him wretch.

There was a deep and underlying truth inside of him that promised their business was not finished.

Kate would seal him in cement before the trip was over.

Gus thought to himself.

He would like to see her try.


	8. The Good Stuff

It didn't take long before Rune was completely drenched by the warm beads of liquid drifting over her body. Since the arrival of Jesse, Walt, Mike, Victor, and Gus she had been wound tighter than a guitar string but the shower that embraced her soothed each and every one of her nerves. Her hair was up in a bun on top of her head to prove that the shower was not for conventional means. The whole purpose of the shower was to totally and completely relax her disturbed body. So far it worked.

But showers don't last forever.

Feeling some how at peace with the way the future was set out before her she emerged from the shower. Around her body was her favorite pink towel that reminded her of her childhood no one could take away. Rune opened the door with the intention of walking to her room when suddenly strong hands grasped her and pushed her against the wall.

The air escaped from her lungs as soon as her back hit the solid surface but the hands did not leave her skin. His fingertips dug so tightly into her flesh she could feel them separating muscles, tendons, and ligaments from her bones. Rune opened her mouth to release a hard scream but the sound of a gunshot flew around them and then the hands were gone. A small whimper resounded from the man that stumbled backward with his tattooed hand pressed against his side.

A sharp pain tugged at her ribs, forcing her to gaze down at her body and at the blood seeping into her pink towel that no longer reminded her of home. Rune looked up, dumbfounded, and saw Jesse gazing at her in that desperate pain that only he could accomplish. It couldn't be, she thought to herself as she frantically looked around and saw that no longer were they in her apartment but suddenly back in her mother's manor. She shoved herself forward against Jesse and began to push him down the hall to escape what was coming next. But it was too late.

Her collarbone shattered in sync with Jesse's but this time she couldn't go on.

Rune slowly turned on her heels and stared straight down at the gunman continuing her way.

She lost her breath again.

It was Elias.

 

**Breaking Bad:**

_**The Good Stuff** _

 

"99.1," Elias sighed, "This is some good shit."

A round of cheers surrounded the group but Gustavo found no reason to celebrate, not yet. Diego and some of the other men helped themselves to a taste of the product while Elias happily reached over to press a kiss to the freshly dressed Kate. Victor shook his head to himself while Mike continued to watch Gus as if waiting for a cue to follow through with something. Resting, finally, on some comforted benches were Walter and Jesse that also did not decide to join in with the excitement. Behind the group stood a wide-eyed Rune that appeared to have just woken up from a very troubling dream.

"This is truly perfecto!" Diego shouted eagerly as he rubbed at his nose and took in a few deep breaths. The others what had sampled the Blue Sky agreed enthusiastically and chaotically while moving around to feel the chemicals flow through out their bodies.

"I knew you would never disappoint," Arciniega chuckled.

"Now that we have completed our demonstration I believe it's time to talk business," Gustavo began, making sure not to give Elias enough time to interrupt, "As much as I would enjoy staying a few more weeks to follow through with the our deliberations, I'm afraid our business back home can only allow us one week's reprieve. While it may be uncomfortable to close our dealings in such a short time period I believe we can accomplish the task we initially arrived here to do."

From the approving nod of Mike it seemed to Gus he had come off smooth and undeniable but with Elias there was no certainty. It didn't help that at that very moment Kate decided to lift her clawed hand onto his shoulder as if to deliver some secret message that could only be communicated through touch. Gustavo was almost certain she would make everything fall through their hands.

"Hm," he blew the air out of his nostrils, "I find this news unfortunate but I agree, together we can accomplish everything I had intended to stretch out over an enjoyable amount of time. Now that we have the product I hope you don't find it too imposing of me to ask for a small probationary period, just to test how this new series will test on the market."

Gus nodded indifferently—though inside he knew he would have never done something to someone he intended to acquire a long lasting relationship with—with the hopes that all of his agreement will get them all out of the door faster, "That is fine."

"Diego, grab two men and bag this up while I take Gustavo on a tour of our trade," Arciniega ordered, much to Fring's surprise.

"My men have worked quite hard to insure this batch is perfect. I'd find it disrespectful to not allow them time to rest, possibly explore the area around us on their own after such a dedicated performance," Gus interrupted forcibly.

"Of course," the man nodded sternly, "What I intend to show you is our mode of distribution and will only take a few moments of your time. A solid percentage of our locations we have actually passed already and will continue to pass on the way to your hotel room. After which I can allow you the rest of the afternoon to what ever you would like to follow through with. But I will escort you to dinner, no questions."

"That would be fine."

One might assume that many of Arciniega's decisions came with the wind but in reality the man knew exactly what he was doing. Instead of allowing everyone to return to the same vehicle they had arrived in he switched the whole ship around. Slyly he suggested that Mike drive Cathy, Victor, and Walter while Kate and Jesse (the weakest of the bunch) were to be driven by one of his men. Diabla would stay with him and Gus and accompany them throughout the one-way travel. He knew she could get nothing from him but he hoped she might get something from his interpretation of the enterprise.

As they all gathered outside of the old factory and worked to ignore the manure smell overpowered by marijuana Elias wrapped his arm around Kate's waist, "Are you sure you want to accompany us? I know you get bored with these dull motions."

"I already told you," she nodded as she kept her eye on the line of vehicles driving from around the back of the old building.

"I know, my love," he smiled, pressing a kiss to her cheek. To him Kate was everything he had hoped for in the God-less world. She was a beautiful woman and it was a mystery exactly what made her so stunning. Her green eyes were magnificent stars, her skin was milky desire, her hair was burning flames and her body was unmatchable. But it wasn't just the physical that made her appear to be a goddess among men. It was also her power. Even without the Luxury Palace she would always have dominion over every one and every thing around her. She was a queen he thought best for a king—the king being himself.

Still reeling from the dream, Rune stood with her arms folded over her chest and her face slightly without color. She had attempted her hand at make-up to cover up her bruising eyes but somehow she hadn't gotten it quite right. All she got was blotted black spots beneath her lashes that continued to fly around her face with each rub from her fingers. But still she managed to smile at anyone who casted a weary glance at her. What she had uncovered left her cold and feeling unwelcome toward the idea of sharing a ride with Gus and Elias but orders were orders.

As the cars rolled up she briefly glanced behind herself and found Victor waiting with his head in the clouds. He was a foot taller than her but still stood on the shorter end of the party. His eyes were familiar and depthless like a mirror she didn't like staring into. A pair of glasses might make him appear too much like Fring with the way their mouths fell down on the corners in an always serious and always unimpressed expression. And suddenly his unimpressed expression was gazing down at her.

She smiled briefly and suddenly felt a strange and pressing urge to ask the question, "So…you've been working for Mr. Fring long?"

"You could say that," was his only reply.

"Diabla!"

"Crap, I hate it when he calls me that," she murmured to herself as she ran off to follow her boss into the first line of SUVs.

Her absence left Victor alone and prone to wandering thoughts he'd rather leave alone. In a long car ride to pick up some of the much-needed materials for the super lab Gale Boetticher had asked him the same question. It was a last ditch effort to strike up a conversation. They had many miles to go until they reached their destination and many miles to go before they returned home. He had asked in the same exact manner as the girl, "So…you've been working for Mr. Fring long?"

Victor had thought the car would explode with all the pressure building inside. It was apparent only he could feel it because Gale just continued smiling on despite how nervous he appeared. He tapped out an imaginary beat on his fingers as he glanced around in uncertainty at all the things they passed. Victor had thought it was a joke or a gift from the Heavens that he was tasked with the job of taking Gale on the road but he had no idea of what to do after that…and then Gale asked him the question. And then they started talking.

"Hi, there."

Victor turned his head and found the bright blue eyes he was certain he had spoke to the night before. Cathy was her name and she appeared to be Ms. Kate's personal slave—something he did not like—though she continued being kind despite the fact. She reminded him of a little Cinderella that worked for an evil step mom yet smiled despite the pain she concealed. She was beautiful but Victor did not want to talk. That kind glow she radiated was too much like the person he had lost and had never had to begin with. It was much too close for him to enjoy.

"Oh…"

Oh, no. Victor lifted his eyes to see the girl frowning suddenly in a way that dimmed her light and filled him with hard guilt. He swallowed and looked away briefly so that he could spill out, "I don't mean to be rude. I'm just not sure what I said to you last night. I don't like not knowing what I've said."

"I can tell you what you've said," her soft voice began, "It wasn't bad and I promise I won't tell a soul. I'm…I may work for Ms. Kate but I'm not like those other girls. Our conversation was mutually beneficial. I told you some stuff too."

"I can't remember," he denied.

She tentatively reached a hand up and lightly rested it on his arm, "How about next time we meet alone…I'll do all the talking so we'll be even."

A small sigh escaped his nostrils as Mike motioned for him to follow into the car, "I'd like that."

With the factory slowly growing smaller in the distance Jesse began to relax as best as he could beside the woman that deemed herself Ms. Kate. Though she sat at one end and he at the other he could feel her presence filling up the whole SUV like toxic gas. She demanded the whole bench for herself with silence and if Jesse had it his way he would follow through. But like the rest of the group he was under that Arciniega guy's thumb; a guy he couldn't and didn't want to try to understand.

The guy in front switched on the radio and on came a Spanish song he didn't want to recall.

_"Me voy de la casa y vendo el anillo ya no te soporto punto y final. Contigo la muerte es algo divino y se que al cielo tu no llegaras."_

He was in Andrea's kitchen, watching her clean up the mess she had made while getting Brock ready for school. The kid had left maybe ten minutes ago and she turned on the radio to some Spanish music station he couldn't understand. She had just finished drying her hands when she sat down beside him at the table and asked him in that quiet way of hers, "Do you understand what he's saying?"

"Something-o," he joked, "That's about it."

She laughed and she shook her head, "He's talking about his wife."

"So it's a love song?"

"Not quite. He's talking about what an evil woman she is. He's selling his ring, she's going to hell and he's changing his ways so that he won't see her down there," she translated.

He let out a low whistle, "That's pretty harsh…but it sounds nice?"

"Yeah, Spanish makes ugly things sound beautiful sometimes," she sighed, "I guess that's why they call it the language of love."

He lifted his hand up and rested it lightly on her cheek, "Well, I love you."

Her face lit up into all colors of red that he enjoyed, "Jesse…I."

"You don't have to say it back," he smiled, his knuckles gently gliding over her skin.

"Okay," she nodded, gazing down nervously before looking up and whispering, "Can you say it again?"

Jesse nodded as he leaned forward with seriousness and declared, "I love you."

"I love you too."

Back in the SUV Jesse felt empty and cold and angry and alone. He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to block out the next memories coming in. There was word that hit men were coming after him and Gus and Mike for what happened in Mexico. Mike had some guys stationed at his house while he made sure his granddaughter and daughter-in-law were out of town on a vacation that was his treat. They had put guys on Gus' house and Jesse's house too but nothing happened. Until they arrived at Mike's daughter-in-law's house and were personally taken out by the bald man. It hit him then they were going after people that the trio loved and since Gus loved no one and Mike had taken care of business that left one place open.

Jesse had rushed to Andrea's house to find it destroyed and everyone missing. Gus put a word out for them but the two hit men had already been killed so there was no certainty. But after a week no one said what everyone was thinking. Because of him another innocent person was killed. Because of him a mother and child were killed. But it wasn't the first time he had ruined someone and murdered with his bare hands.

His precious Jane that he had destroye-

"Your name is Jesse, is it not?"

Jesse's eyes snapped toward the woman in the large white hate and the thick glasses. He nodded wearily at her as he quietly answered, "Yeah…"

"You did a fine job in there today," she nodded softly.

His brows furrowed, "Uh…thanks."

"You have talent, Jesse. You're a gifted young man. I've got my eye on you," she warned.

All he could do was nod and look away.

Shit, she was weird.


	9. Hard Talks

The drive with Elias and Rune kept Gus on edge. His outer appearance—as always—remained absolutely calm with no hint as to the rotating gears inside of his mind. Gustavo worked meticulously to catalog all of Arciniega's men in case things did not go well. If for some reasons the trip went sour they would have to shoot their way out of the state but that did not worry Gus. He knew he was a good shot, Mike could do anything, Victor always made him proud, and Jesse and Walter could be made to some use.

There was Elias himself.

His son Diego.

Rune, the Oracle.

His wife and her fifteen girls.

There was Eli's quiet cook—Joel Hammerstein—and his deaf wife—Leslie.

Of the enforcers there was Stu, Roy, and Julio.

He had noted twenty other men that came and went at his beck and call.

Emmanuel, the servant.

And last but not least the five gas station attendants they had visited.

Elias' system of distribution was through old-looking two-pump gas stations going far out over long stretches of highway. There was one at each station but Gus assumed there were at least three men that switched shifts at each place. Of course there had to be more doing the footwork but of all that he had seen there appeared not to be more than he could handle. The more Gus focused on the numbers the more he focused on a plan that would allow him and his group to get across stateliness and make it back home with not even a scratch. He wasn't particularly superstitious but the mention of that dream and the way the girl looked shakily out into the distance gave him the strange feeling of doom following them like a thick blanket of clouds.

If bad things were coming he would be prepared.

He didn't need to be psychic like Rune to plan ahead.

Gus did not need those too-familiar black eyes to see what was coming next.

 

 

**Breaking Bad:**

_**Hard Talks** _

 

Mike Ehrmantraut did not believe in the supernatural. He did not believe in anything beyond what he could see, feel, or kill which left more than enough room in his mind for deductive reasoning. Often he came across people with their wild speculation, their ghost stories, and their hand-on-the-bible ability to predict winning lotto tickets for the right price. Mike offered them neither judgment nor acceptance. Just a grunt of a response was all that was given from him—nothing more, nothing less.

But what could he say about the girl and the words she had spoken?

Quietly he sat alone in the lounge area with a black coffee losing steam and a stack of pancakes cut up but untouched and un-syrup-ed. Beside the plate was a small pile of round cartridges that contained the goopy substance but with all of his attention to it he figured it might as well return to the basket he lifted it from. The hotel they stayed in was a swanky place in Burlington County. It was the Hilton Garden Inn, which made the desperate distinction of being the Mount Holly/Westhampton branch in all of the brochures. It was very big, filled with smiling faces and plenty of food to eat at will. Mike was thankful he was relatively alone since most people were outside at the pool or at the bar and grille else where in the hotel.

Normally Mike would have enjoyed the setting. He would have taken some nice pictures of the surrounding area, he would have gotten some nifty souvenirs, a couple of toys and all to bring back to the light of his life—Kaylee. But things weren't going as planned. There were a lot of things to consider and there was far too much going on for him to drop it all. He would get her something in Albuquerque and pretend he picked it up on the road.

"Is everything up to your standards?"

Mike lifted his head and nodded to the young man that was passing by, not bothering to answer verbally. Instead he reached up and grabbed the coffee to finally take a sip of the cup that was sitting before him. His mind briefly jumped to the conversation he had with Gus just as they were dropped off. They had spoken about the possibilities of extraction, gone over the numbers roaming in their head, and then came up Elias' wife. Mrs. Arciniega—or Ms. Kate as Rune had forcibly described.

Gus had become silent at the sound of her name. It became clear to Mike that they had a history but Fring neither denied nor confirmed. His only mention of the topic came with the ominous warning: Do not underestimate her; it will be the last thing you do.

"Matty forgives you, okay? He wants you to be happy. He wants you to forgive yourself. Alright? Everything you've done for Kaylee? You have given her more than he could ever ask. You've become his hero again. And even more, you've become hers."

Now that he was alone he could think about, dissect it, figure it out.

Every mad man that swore he could read the future had always made the same ridiculous claim. A woman had scorned you, they would say, she did you wrong! Always it was, you have a trusting heart no one knows about! Constantly, No one knows how much you care! But never, not ever did they talk about Matty. Never did they bring up his name or his granddaughter's.

What could he take from the matter?

That the girl was an actual psychic?

That the girl actually had spoken to his son?

That he really did forgive him?

"I hear you're thinkin' about me."

Mike jumped as he looked up to see it was in fact Rune that had come to sit with him at his lone table. In her hand was a plate of food that looked hot and steaming along with a long glass of orange juice. As if she belonged there she placed the food down and pulled out the chair as she plopped down eagerly to begin eating her meal. Half the plate was sausage and bacon while the other half was hash browns and scrambled eggs. They were heavy portions that she did not wait to get into.

"I understand the speculation," she spoke through her mouthful, "but for all I care you could call me a fake. You know. If you want."

"What are you doing here?"

"I love this place," she smiled as she motioned around her, "They have the best food. Plus Elias always brings his business associates here so they know me and give me free food."

It was a simple explanation that Mike couldn't deny. He was a simple man but a simple man that knew instantaneously when people were lying or bull shitting him and she wasn't pulling his leg. He even watched her wave to one of the employees who stared longingly at her. She was certainly a regular but still, "Alright, what are you doing _here_?"

"Oh," she nodded, "I saw you sitting here alone, saw you thinking about me, figured you needed someone to talk to."

"I don't need someone to talk to," he denied.

"Come on, you haven't even touched your food. Just go ahead and eat your pancakes. Stop mulling over what I said. Matt gave me that message not to bum your out but to inspire you to get real. You've already made enough money in this business and Kaylee does not need all those bills you've already saved up. That girl," she took in a deep breath and sighed with amazement, "That girl could get dropped off in the middle of nowhere, make a pile of connects, and get back home with money in her pocket. Between you and Matty, she's set on the life skills. She's good."

"How do you know that?"

Mike's words were angry. He was snippy and mean with his words but he didn't outright attack the girl. He didn't know if he wanted to attack the girl. All he wanted was peace and happiness and suddenly he was supposed to get out of the business? The business that had been paying the bills and taking care of his family? How was he supposed to do that?

He wanted answers.

"Hey, listen. I don't know _everything_ , okay? I just know what he told me last time Arciniega smoked me up. On a regular day I only get what's given to me but when I'm super relaxed I can get anything. Matt's not talking to me anymore but that doesn't mean he's not here. That doesn't mean he's left you or Kaylee or Stacey. My suggestion is you follow his instructions. Wait out the year; get what ever else you feel you need and then move on. Enjoy your retirement with your family. Those that have passed should not be ignored," she nodded solemnly. "So don't ignore him."

"What are you doing with Arciniega?" Mike couldn't help but to snap.

Rune's face went quiet as she lowered the orange juice that she had just taken a sip of, "Trying to get by."

"Someone with an ability like yours can do more than just get by," he responded accusingly.

She scoffed, "Have you watched any movie or read any book with a gifted protagonist doing more than getting by? Odd Thomas? Supernatural? Twilight? That's So Raven? The Medium? John Dies at the End! Everyone's just trying to get by and do what they have to do. And before you say you're doing what you have to do I'd like to point out that Matt says you've already done it."

Mike stared hard at the girl that continued to eat her food. He didn't know what else he could say to her. He couldn't sit there and talk to her about what leaving meant or what to do about whatever was coming next. The only other thing he could manage to respond with was the question about the dream, "You know so much about my life and what my son wants but what about this dream you can't figure out?"

Her face went hard and her already pitch black eyes became darker.

"What is it?" Mike pushed.

"I don't know. I don't like it. I don't like any of it and it's my fault you're all here," she whispered.

His brows furrowed, "What do you mean by that?"

"Maximo…He used me to write one name. He used me to write the name Gustavo Fring but…when you guys were pulling up I got all of these messages at once. I think I can figure out who they're for but I'm not positive since it all hit me at high speed. There was a girl that said 'Tell him it's okay' and a guy that said 'Tell him not to be sorry.' I'm pretty sure that was for Jesse. There was a guy that said 'He's taking good care of my little girl' which was obviously Matt for you. There were images of things. Blue Skies, Gray Matter, and then something about a guy named Gale and in the middle of all of that was a sentence in Spanish: No he traído Gustavo aquí por negocios."

"I did not bring Gustavo here for business," Mike translated.

She titled her head curiously, "You speak Spanish?"

"Enough," he answered with a brief shrug as he reached to grab his coffee.

"I gave Elias the name cause…I don't know. That's his cousin but I was wrong. I was dead wrong," she huffed, turning away for a moment before continuing to eat her breakfast.

"You think we're going to die?" She shook her head, "If anyone dies…its going to be me and Jesse."

"That kid can't die, you know?" She nodded her head, "Yeah, I know."

Up in the hotel room Walter sat on the edge of his bed with the phone in his hand as he spoke to his son, "W-What'd you mean you have to stay longer? You said you were only going there for two days!"

"I know but your grandmother is sick and someone needs to take care of her," Walter pleaded, desperately holding onto the phone with both of his hands.

"Are you serious? Can't like…one of the nurses take care of her?" he questioned.

Walt shook his head although his son could not see, "That's not the care she needs. Son, she's sad, lonely, and needs someone to make her feel happy again. If she gives up hope…we could lose her forever."

There was a heavy sigh over the other end of the phone.

"You know I would rather be there with you," he sighed, the first truth in the entire conversation.

"Yeah," Walter Jr. nodded, "I'm just…bummed that you're not gonna here. I miss you."

"I miss you too," he could feel the tears welding in his eyes, "I miss you and your sister so much. Give her a big hug for me."

"I will. I love you, dad."

"I love you too, Junior."

All that was left was a dial tone between he and his son.

He dropped the phone into the cradle and fell backward onto the bed with a shut of his eyes and desperate desire to go back to sleep. Skyler answered the phone and handed it off to Junior without a breath. He knew she would be in the background listening with her apathetic stare as she fixed up breakfast for their son and daughter. Walter just knew she would be thinking "I knew it" and yet she would still feel hurt and betrayed. His arms felt empty and have felt empty for quite a long time.

His beautiful wife.

Not his anymore.


	10. Chapter 10

On Kate's bench Cathy sat applying the makeup her mentor had laid out for her. Her dark hair was held back in a tight bun as delicate brushes worked to both enhance and hide her face. Her hands worked like an artist creating quarter-sized paintings. She worked up close to the mirror to focus on the details of her design as well as the entire piece. Cathy made magic with the powders and glosses available to her. Nothing in her possession went to waste; not even the mistakes.

Kate entered the room behind her so that she was visible in the mirror without Cathy having to turn her head. The woman stepped forward and placed a stunning teardrop sapphire necklace around the girl's throat as she leaned forward and demanded, "Tell me everything you know."

"Gustavo Fring owns a business by the name of Los Pollos Locos and uses it to move his meth around. Victor has worked for him since he was fourteen while Mike has worked for him for about eight years, maybe less. Heisenberg and Jesse are relatively new additions to the group and there seems to have been a massive problem with them."

"Problem?" Kate lifted her brown, "What kind of problem?"

"The kind of problem that left the old cook, Gale, dead. Victor was really broken up about it and didn't let anything else go after that. All he did was cry," Cathy shuddered.

"Hm…that's interesting," Kate sighed, "Did you confirm his involvement with the end of the Cartel?"

"Definitely him," she nodded. "Anything else?"

"He's in with the DEA. He uses an anti-drug program to get them on his side. No one suspects he could be up to any illegal activity," she shrugged.

"Is Victor his son?"

Cathy froze in that moment and gazed into the reflection of her mistress' eyes, "If he is he has no idea."

It was in that moment that Kate pulled away and entered the closet.

"What's your interest with this man anyway?" she desperately questioned.

Kate was silent for a moment before entering the room with a dress and shoes that she promptly laid on the bed, "Do you remember that story of the woman that get left behind in Chile?"

Cathy nodded.

"I was that woman."

"Gustavo Fring is Negro," Cathy hissed.

"He is."

"Are you going to tell Elias?"

Kate let out a deep breath from her nostrils as she worked to organize the dress in a way that didn't give it wrinkles, "When it serves us best. I plan to wait until their deal is almost over before rushing to him crying and divulging all of my deep, dark past."

"What do you think he'll do?" Cathy wondered, having already stopped her makeup production to turn around and look at Kate.

"I have no idea," she smiled, "And that's exactly what I want. Are you still taking your fertility medication?"

"Of course, one pop and I'm prego," she smiled warmly but her smile faltered slightly as she gazed at the woman, "Is it necessary that he impregnates me? We aren't even sure he's Gustavo's son."

"He has to be. Those eyes can only come from him. But even if he's not," Kate sighed, "It's the only way I can ensure your safety. We aren't just going for revenge here. Everything we've been working for, all of it is going into this. We are going head first into this fight and if things go wrong no one knows you are apart of this and you still have a get-out-of-jail-free card. I need to know that you are safe, no matter what."

Cathy grinned without saying a word.

"You're the daughter I always wanted, you know that," Kate beamed.

Cathy nodded, "I do. Is that what I'm wearing?"

"Yes. No stockings tonight. I don't care how you do it but he _must_ touch your legs. I don't care if you have to fake a sprained ankle. One touch of those cursed things and he is wrapped around your finger," Kate smirked.

"You got that right."

 

 

 

**Breaking Bad:**

_**Turning Tides** _

 

 

"What did you think of Mr. Heisenberg?"

The question was pronounced with a false amusement that was easily understood to be unreal. Elias sat coyly with one leg crossed over the other as he sucked on his cigar with a glass of scotch in one hand. He was leaning on the recliner in his old study with one of his oldest friends and his resident eccentric scientist—Joel Hammerstein.

The man wore loose basketball shorts, an old polo, and sandals that were worn under long white socks. His hair was combed back sloppily and though he was roughly the age of forty-five he tried his hardest to appear eighteen. He himself smoked a joint similar to that of Diabla who Elias had dropped off at her apartment. The man was a genius but had not yet mastered life. It was a miracle he had found that wife of his—deaf or not.

"He's smart. What else is there to think about?" he shrugged.

"I know that but is he _our_ kind of smart?" Elias mused out loud.

"I doubt it. He's one of those guys that's really good at one thing but not pretty good at everything," Joel smirked.

Elias took a sip of his scotch, "How unfortunate."

Hammerstein jerked himself forward as he shook his head, "Fuck that! How very fortunate. That guy's a tool and he's got no imagination. Why I…"

"Yes?"

"I haven't told you what I've just finished in the lab?"

The atmosphere shifted as the two men leaned forward to listen to the secrets that would be divulged. Elias left his drink on the table beside him as he stamped out his cigar to focus on what was opening before his eyes. His brows raised as he questioned, "What did you finish, my friend?"

"I haven't tested it on anyone but myself but here it is," from his pocket came two thick vials of clear liquid, one tinted green and the other tinted blue.

As Elias grasped the two vials he questioned, "Is this what we talked about?"

"This is exactly what we talked about."

Arciniega leaned backward into his seat as he rolled the two thick vials between his fingers. His eyes were wide and filled with a dancing light that swayed between green and blue, green and blue, green in blue. A soft chuckle fell from his lips as he gazed back to his comrade.

Things were looking much better than he had anticipated.

In the hotel Walter sat on one of the large cushioned seats sitting out in the hallway of their rooms. He was dressed well mannered with his hat tilted upon his head and his glasses resting against his face so that he could read the magazine that was beside him. It was the New York Times that had run an interesting article on the possible legalization of marijuana. Many politicians were against it but some were considering that taxation on the substance could possibly get the country out of debt. There was even a poll that estimated a decrease in recreational use. Those against raised the question if marijuana is legal than why not meth?

Why not meth?

The door to one of the rooms opened and out came Jesse in some decent clothes. Walter was beyond thankful he had traded his old 'homeboy swag' for an improved wardrobe. Somehow in the process of nearly being murdered countless times he had been reborn into a seemingly grown man. Of course it was only "seemingly." Jesse plopped down on the chair beside Walt with that sniveling pout only he could commit to.

His eyes glazed over to focus on the young man fixing through his pockets in search of his pack of smokes. He knew there was no way he could positively push Jesse into a conversation but tried nonetheless with a half-assed attempt, "Have you seen this article yet?"

No answer.

"It's about the legalization of pot. Looks like it might actually be a thing."

"Yeah," Jesse drawled, "Whatever."

Walt slammed the magazine down angrily on the round table between them as he snapped, "We are going to have to talk eventually."

"There's _nothing_ to talk about anymore. You wanted me here and I'm here. If you shove your hand up my ass don't expect me to smile," he responded in the same tone.

"Here we go," Walter rolled his eyes, "I didn't force you here. I thought it was a better opportunity than allowing you to keep holed up in that house of yours."

"I wasn't _holed_ up."

"You're right. You weren't holed up; you were rotting in there. If I hadn't pulled you out of there you wouldn't have lasted one week."

"Maybe I didn't want to last a week."

Jesse's words faded down the hall along with their conversation. His eyes had trailed away to some unimaginable memory that haunted his expression entirely. Walter looked away and tried not to retreat back to the last time he had seen him in that house. He had been there for many ups and downs but the last one promised to be something Jesse could not return from. He was on the ground covered in his own vomit (wrists bleeding though he had left that part out of the report to Gus) with no breath left in his lungs.

It had begun with Combo, avalanched with Jane, there was the landslide with Gale, but Andrea and Brock had broken the dam. That was clear. That was way too clear.

"Well, how do you feel now?" it was a serious question, "Do you feel like dying halfway across the country?"

"What do you mean?" Jesse groaned as if he was over what ever plan or scheme that could be come up with.

"We talk to Elias. Mention that we have a family to return home t-"

"I don't have a family."

"Besides the point. We have done our part of the deal and if we both approach him respectably we can get out of it," Walter explained.

"Yeah, whatever," Jesse sighed, rolling his eyes, "Just…keep his crazy wife away from me."

Walter was suddenly very intrigued, "What did she say to you?"

In a mocking voice Jesse replied, "'I've got my eyes on you.'"

"The last thing we need is you to have an affair with this w-"

"What?!" Jesse repulsed, "It wasn't like that, bitch. And I'm not into milfs."

"Milfs?"

"You know?" he rolled his eyes, "Mother I'd Like to Fuck? Also meaning Older Woman."

"That's repulsive."

"I _know_."

In her vehicle outside of Elias' favorite Italian Restaurant Rune sat with her head against the steering wheel, hyperventilating. She was sitting in a new black dress that made her seem a lot slimmer than she was with long sleeves that sucked in her arms the right way. Her hair was folded upward in a fishtail bun but since she had left home her hair had gone a little too crazy. Because of the heaving of her shoulders her hair had fallen in disarray but because of the bobby pins still in place it had style to it. Her make up was still intact since she had not cried or touched her face but her eyes were bloodshot.

Totally.

Rune had gotten the message to meet at the restaurant so that she could return home immediately after dinner but for some reason on the way there she had gotten mixed up and arrived too early. For the past half an hour she sat in her car listening to music and trying to calm down until a massive vision struck her like a football in the face. It was the strangest thing she had ever experienced and left her way more winded than she had ever imagined a vision could. She would have gone home if the thing didn't immediately affect her and the life of her employer and his new visitors. It might not have been her dream but it was definitely something she didn't want to go through.

The black SUVs rolled up in sync to line the parking spots directly behind her. Before anyone could leave their vehicles she got out and rushed to Elias as fast as her tight skirt would allow her. Rune grabbed the door to his side and spat out, "You can't come here. Tell everyone else to follow you and get the fuck out of here right now."

Elias was already making the call as he furrowed his brows, "What's wrong?"

"There are cops in there. Staking out the place across the street. They don't know anything about you or what's going on here but you have to get out. We walk in there, all together, we'll bring too much suspicious and you know Diego's always holding. Just get out now!"

He didn't need to hear anymore. Elias began barking orders into his cell phone while Rune left to find the vehicle that contained the man Victor. She didn't know why she needed to follow through with the rest of her plan but the second part of the vision promised that if she didn't distract the cops with him the immediate exodus of all the black SUVs would certainly stir up their attention. Before she knew it she was pulling open another door and there was that bitch Cathy were her "perplexed" expression as she cozied up to the man. Elias had already made his way down the line and was speaking to Mike on the phone to tell him what's what but no one else knew for sure what was going on. And she certainly didn't care.

"I had a vision," she explained briskly, "I need you to come with me. We need to distract the cops by going in together and having dinner. If they watch everyone leaving at once they're going to be susp-"

"Why him?" Cathy snapped as woundedly as she could manage.

"I don't ask the spirits why I get the information I do I just follow through with it," Rune growled.

Mike had spent the early part of the afternoon talking with Rune. They had discussed many things other than her ability and had found much in common. They talked about movies, music, TV shows, and any thing else that could be talked about. Rune was chatty, that was for sure, but she was also a debater. When they disagreed on a matter she made a point to get the facts out on the table and discuss her opinion versus his. It was in a fun way though, not in a demanding and forceful way that pushed her thoughts on his so that he would conform. It was just for fun but it gave him an insight into how she thought and he trusted her line of thinking.

So when she demanded that Victor go with her he immediately looked over and urged, "Go with her, kid.

" Rune shut the door and began her little walk to the restaurant while Victor angrily snapped, "Are you kidding? Why don't you go with her?"

"Because she asked you. Don't be difficult," he pushed, knowing that Victor didn't put up much of a fight when Mike ordered him to do something and somehow this had become an order.

Victor took in a deep breath and began to open the door but the young Cathy grabbed his arm and pouted, "Don't go! She's insane!"

Mike was on the verge of opening his mouth and telling her to be quiet but Victor had already made his decision. He was out the door and following Rune so quickly the door had yet to be slammed shut. Mike smiled to himself as he glanced at the other SUVs and followed their lead. Walter was sitting beside him with that look that obviously meant, "What do you think that's all about?" The only response he gave was a brief shrug and an eye roll. He would have to tell Victor to watch out with that girl. There was no chance she was up to anything good.

Though Jesse sat in an entirely different SUV with the woman he wanted to be nowhere near he was still able to catch sight of what was going on. That girl Rune had stormed her way to Arciniega only to drag Victor out with her to the restaurant. Before he knew it they were reversing out of their spots and getting the hell out of dodge all because of her warning. He found himself curious about the fact that such a small girl could demand such attention from the whole group but that wasn't all he wondered. He wondered why she picked Victor but he didn't stay focused on that thought for too long.

She was a pretty girl so that meant she could pick anyone she wanted to have that dinner with. She was short and thick and never looked too frantic about anything. The dress was short and tight against her body but it didn't look like she was trying hard. It looked like she was trying hard not to look like she was trying hard but still trying to look really nice. And it actually worked. It was a mystery to him how girls could manage to do the impossible like that.

Jane managed to challenge him without making him feel stupid. Andrea managed to make him feel like a man without having to be totally in control. Rune managed to make him feel all of the crap he had been trying his hardest to forget but that one he didn't really like. As the SUVs pulled onto the highway and drove at warp speed toward another location Jesse found himself cursing the fact that once again everything felt fresh and new. He didn't want to think about Brock and what he could have felt or seen. They deserved better; they all deserved better.

"Girl trouble?"

Jesse snapped his head toward the older woman dressed in her expensive fur and expensive diamonds. He narrowed his eyes angrily as he shook his head, "What?"

"I see that look on your face. I know what it means," she smiled all knowingly, "It means girl trouble."

He stared at her briefly then looked away, not bothering to respond.

"You might not see it now but one day we are going to be great friends," she encouraged.

Jesse shut his eyes and prayed for a car crash.

Kate knew the young man wanted nothing to do with her but she never gave up so easily. There was no way she was going to try to seduce him—he was a weak and pitiful man in her opinion and she would be physically repulsed to touch him—but still she needed some sort of relationship to stir. Already there was a plan that she, Cathy, and her girls were following but there was always room for improvement. Watching him cook with the famous Heisenberg proved that he was more than a contender and more than an adequate addition to her scheme. If she had him it would open up a whole new avenue of the drug trade by completing the deal that could never be finished.

The only trouble was that surrounding him was a dark cloud of blackness that prevented her from getting any closer. Kate had a charm that allowed her to come across as personable and welcoming though she was no such thing. She had her sex appeal that worked quite well on most men but that wasn't her only tool. It became clear to her early on that a woman that only relies on sex was a weak woman with no power and so she accumulated her own wealth of skills. She knew how to be the loving mother when she needed to be—to everyone but the one that mattered.

"I'm a powerful ally," she smiled only to herself, "I'm a good friend to have."

Just as she expected they were pulling into Eli's second favorite restaurant just a mile away from the old _Ciao Bella_ that had suddenly been filled with police officers. The place they were pulling into went by the name of Old Joe's Steakhouse and mostly served as a tavern except for the back room that was reserved only for Elias. The deal had come not from any shady schemes but from the fact that somehow her husband managed to have a minimum bill of one thousand dollars in a place that had four-dollar burgers. She didn't mind the atmosphere, since it had dark lighting and regardless of anyone around she would no doubt gather their attention. The only trouble was that Victor had been taken out of the group which set their plan back a night.

But that didn't matter.

She would make sure they would return to the Luxury Palace.

They always did.


End file.
